Fall With Me
by Asviloka
Summary: An extremely strong connection to Bastila, and an unstable narrator lost somewhere between dark and light. Female/Darkside?/Consular. Starts off following the KotOR storyline, with an increasing number of alterations as the story progresses.
1. Endar Spire

**Author's Notes:**

(Rating is for violence/death/torture, there will not be language or sexual content.)

Hello! Thank you for checking out my first proper fanfiction~ I've loved KotOR forever, played it dozens of times, and now finally have decided to try my hand at writing in its world.

A good amount of dialog in this story is taken straight from the game, particularly toward the beginning, as I tried to stay as close to the original as possible while taking the main character my own direction. The farther along we get, the more divergences will necessarily occur as her actions ripple outward. As this was my first fanfiction, I was a bit timid and unsure throughout the first half of this project, things will be a bit stiff or awkward as I tried too hard to stick too close to the original dialogs. I hope you can put up with my less than perfect start, I care deeply about this project and anticipate it carrying on for many years longer.

Primary sources are KotOR and K2tSL. SWtOR and its associated media _may_ be used as tertiary reference material, but nothing from that story is necessarily considered canonical to this universe.

Please let me know what you think, positive or negative, I want your critiques. What did I do well, what needs work still... I am not always the best judge for character voice or story flow... fairly new to this sorta thing.

Thanks for reading~

* * *

 ** _Fall With Me_**

* * *

 _Yellow and red, clashing and sizzling. I fought desperately, heart pounding as we neared the goal. My opponent fell, and I stood over him with chest heaving. One last door. . ._

* * *

I awoke to the pounding of feet outside my room, the ship shuddering under repeated impacts on the shield. Glancing around wildly, everything seemed suddenly unfamiliar. I felt like the dream was more real than what stood around me.

A ship, a republic capitol ship. My room. I knew it was my room, but—

I sat up, reached for the double-bladed lightsaber I knew I'd find at my side, but nothing was there. Of course nothing's there. I'm not a Jedi.

 _I'm not a Jedi?_

A man burst through the door. "We've been ambushed by a Sith battle fleet, the Endar Spire is under attack!"

"The Endar Spire?" I asked, frowning. It sounded like some kind of capitol building, but on which planet? Where were we?

"Did you fall out of your bunk and hit your head? The Endar Spire is the ship we're stationed on - this ship! You probably don't even know who I am, do you?"

I shook my head.

"I'm Trask Ulgo, ensign with the republic fleet."

Ulgo. My mind immediately placed him as part of a minor Alderaanian noble house. Worthwhile ally.

"Now hurry up and grab your gear, we have to find Bastila. It's our number one priority to ensure she makes it off the ship alive."

Bastila.

"Who's Bastila?"

 _I'm_ _Bastila, aren't I?_

I reached again for my lightsaber, but still wore only my nightclothes.

I didn't have a lightsaber. _Of course not._

"Bastila's the commanding officer on the Endar Spire, well not officer exactly, but she's the one in charge of this mission. Protecting her in the event of an enemy attack is one of our primary duties."

I stood groggily, still feeling confused and disjointed. I didn't know how much sleep I'd gotten before the attack started, but it obviously wasn't enough.

"You swore an oath just like everyone else on this mission. Now it's time to make good on that oath."

I wobbled to my footlocker and started tugging on my clothes, as Ulgo just kept talking. I was beginning to reconsider my assessment of him as a useful ally.

"I've heard all about your reputation, smuggling spice and blasters on the Correlian Run. I guess the republic figured if they couldn't catch you they may as well hire you. And I'll admit, the republic is in desperate need of someone with your skills. Desperate enough to overlook your shady past."

If I weren't so _foggy_ I'd probably have snapped at him. I don't usually need someone spouting my biography. But this particular morning - night, whatever it was, - I latched onto his words to help draw me out of my stupor.

Not a Jedi. Smuggler. Not Bastila. . . but who?

It didn't matter. Everyone was in danger, and I suddenly knew I had to save this Bastila, if I died trying.

"But since you've signed on for this mission you're a republic soldier now," Trask continued. "Bastila needs all troops at her side during this attack."

 _She only needs ME_ , my thoughts snapped, but I shook my head, grabbed my. . . short sword. It didn't hum, not even a vibroblade. _Not a lightsaber._

I wanted to stop, pause everything. I needed time, I needed to meditate, to settle my thoughts. I needed—

"Come on, we have to protect Bastila!"

I sighed and nodded. "Lead on, Ulgo."

My personal communicator blinked, urgent, and began playing without waiting for my consent. _Urgent indeed._

"This is Carth Onasi. The Sith are threatening to overrun our position. We can't hold out long, all hands to the bridge."

"Carth is one of the republic's best pilots," Ulgo said, worry in his voice. "He's seen more combat than the rest of the crew put together. If he says things are bad, you'd better believe it. Come on, we have to get to the bridge and defend Bastila."

I wondered if this was something they did to everyone. I had the overwhelming urge to find Bastila, and from his voice Ulgo did too. Maybe she was calling out to us through the Force, urging everyone toward her.

A few security doors later, and we encountered our first Sith boarding party. My blade felt heavy and clumsy, my attacks weak and uncertain. I still fought through a haze, though the adrenaline of fighting for my life did wake me up. Not tired, exactly, just weary.

Ulgo was very understanding, not trying to push me or insult my slowness, just pointing out what he thought I should know.

Though I felt like I should have snapped at him for trying to teach me how to use a medpack after I was injured in the third skirmish with the Sith boarders, I nodded in thanks. The way I was feeling, I probably would have just gone on until I bled out without even thinking of it.

Then Ulgo opened a door onto a lightsaber battle. A young Jedi, not Bastila, fought a man with dark robes and a red blade.

 _Why red? I know red crystals are cheap and easy to come by, but wouldn't anyone want their lightsaber - their LIGHTSABER - to be as unique and custom to them as possible?_

I resolved to find a purple crystal at the first chance and hold onto it until I could convince Bastila that I should have an honorary blade of my own. Or two.

I smiled and shook my head. No matter how well I did in this battle, the chances that Bastila would notice me - a former smuggler - and give me my own lightsaber - restricted to use by _Jedi_ \- was ridiculous. An absurd fantasy, unworthy of my consideration.

The battle ended when the dark Jedi fell, his blade slicing through a power conduit as he did. The resulting explosion blasted the poor Jedi girl from behind, and knocked Ulgo and me back several steps.

"That was one of the Jedi accompanying Bastila," Ulgo said, cursing. "We could have used her help."

We fought our way through the Sith soldiers, but by the time we reached the bridge it was overrun. No sign of Bastila or Onasi, but I _knew_ that Bastila was alive.

"They must have fled to the escape pods," Ulgo said. "The Sith want Bastila as a prisoner, but once she's off the ship there's nothing stopping them from blowing the Endar Spire into galactic dust."

"This way." I followed the pull in my soul, the _Bastila_ sense that I couldn't have explained. As though I were a compass and she my pole, I knew I'd always be able to find her.

Then Ulgo opened a door, revealing another dark Jedi striding toward us.

"I'll hold him off, you get to the escape pods," Ulgo said, drawing his vibroblade and stepping forward.

"I—"

"GO!"

He slapped the door control, sealing it behind him, leaving me blinking.

So much for that alliance. I ran to the starboard section of the ship, and felt a relieved _tug_ when Bastila's escape pod left the ship. A moment later, Onasi's 'urgent call' flashed on my communicator, confirming.

I was the last crew member, he and I were the only ones still on the ship.

I ran, fighting my way to the escape pods as fast as I could. Onasi couldn't afford to wait too long for one little smuggler like me, and I had no desire to be stranded on a doomed ship.

I barely listened to his introductions, just ran to the pod and strapped myself in. Onasi followed right behind me, sent us blasting out away from the ship.

As we spiraled toward the planet below, the _Endar Spire_ exploded in a brilliant storm of flame above us, the shockwave jostling our course slightly. I saw huge rounded skyscrapers, platforms and walkways as we flew past, then the pod impacted hard and I lost my thin grasp on consciousness.


	2. Taris: Part 1

_Flashes of red against yellow, fighting desperately with every bit of my strength. The enemy fell at my feet and I stood a moment, chest heaving. One more door between us and the target._

 _He stood uncaring of our intrusion, casually choking a soldier to death with nothing but the power of the Force. Tossing the corpse at our feet he faced us calmly, his dark robes and masked face betraying no emotion._

 _"You cannot win, Revan," I said, glancing at the Jedi to either side of me. We all had our blades ready, and he stood without so much as drawing his saber. He turned away, looking out the window ahead of him, and I suddenly saw our mistake._

 _The shields were down, we'd destroyed them to make our boarding. We were on a defenceless ship and Malak's fleet was firing on us, a rain of flame and death racing toward us through silent space._

 _Even if we succeeded in our immediate goal, the chances of surviving were minuscule. And Revan knew it, taunting us with his inaction._

 _I had no time to think, no time to act. The barrage hit, and the ship shook. The massive windows shattered, smashing into the dark lord, into myself, into the other Jedi by my sides. My protection was stronger than those of my allies, Force energy pushing the exploding glass away from me, keeping me safe. I was knocked to the ground, but not seriously injured._

 _The dark lord lay crumpled and unmoving beside the shattered window. My Jedi allies lay unconscious - or worse - and Malak's bombardment wasn't letting up. I had to get away now, or this really would be the end._

 _I struggled to my knees, the moment seeming to hover frozen as I stared out at Malak's still-firing fleet. We'd succeeded in dethroning one dark lord, though not in a way I'd have chosen and at far too high a cost._

 _The war was far from over. How much more would we yet lose?_

* * *

"Some Dark Lord, heh," I barely recognized my voice, so cracked and weak. I blinked at an unfamiliar ceiling. My head was pounding, but I felt more aware, more myself. The Endar Spire might well have been a nightmare, and I was just back in a random apartment, looking for contacts for my next smuggling run—

"Bastila!" I mumbled, heart suddenly pounding. She wasn't there. She _wasn't there_. I sat up and looked around frantically.

"Good to see you up instead of thrashing around in your sleep," came an uncomfortably familiar voice.

Onasi?

Curses. It had been _real_.

Where was Bastila? I put a hand to my chest, but that wasn't right. She was. . . _I_ was. . .

"You must have been having one hell of a nightmare. I wondered if you were ever going to wake up. I'm Carth, one of the soldiers from the Endar Spire. Do you remember?"

"Yeah, Onasi. Best pilot. Where's Bastila? Where are we?"

"You've been slipping in and out of consciousness for a few days now. Try not to worry. We're safe, for the moment."

"But where is Bastila? She's not here, she's—"

"Calm down, we'll find her. I've been asking around, and it sounds like most of the pods crashed into the Undercity."

"Then that's where we need to go."

Onasi held a hand up to slow my frantic rush of words. "We need to be careful, keep a low profile. The Sith have quarantined the planet and imposed martial law, and we do not want to be caught."

"I don't care about the danger, I have to get to Bastila!"

I tried to stand, but Onasi took my shoulders and gently pushed me back. "You need to calm down, okay? Bastila's a Jedi, she can look out for herself long enough, assuming she's not dead already."

"She can't be dead," I insisted, trying to convince myself as much as Carth. The empty place within me that used to be full of her presence spiraled continually into darkness, mocking the emptiness of my insistence. If she was dead, it would feel different. I truly, deeply believed her to be alive, but persuading my conscious mind to believe wasn't easy.

"We'll find her, but you need to slow down. We won't be any use to her if we get caught by the Sith, I've heard grim stories about dark Jedi interrogation techniques. And you're still recovering, you need food and rest."

"I'm fine," I mumbled, but accepted the rations he handed me gratefully. I _was_ weak and tired, and the only way to help Bastila was to regain strength as fast as possible.

I nibbled slowly, wary of upsetting my stomach, while Onasi reported on the events while I was unconscious. He'd managed to drag me to safety, avoid Sith patrols, locate a safe hideout, and amass a good amount of information on the crashed escape pods in only a few days and without attracting undue notice.

I was feeling much better about our chances by the time I felt strong enough to leave. Onasi wasn't heralded as such a great soldier without cause, he really did know how to get things done.

But, fate conspires against the best of us sometimes.

* * *

The moment we stepped out of the apartment, we were spotted by a Sith patrol. No dark Jedi, thank goodness, just a low-level enforcer and his droids. Still, I wasn't even close to prepared for a confrontation.

Again Onasi saved me, whipping out his pair of blasters and firing before they knew what hit them. I ran forward in time to smash one of the droids with my new vibroblade.

(I'd laughed at Onasi's expression when I asked after my pack of loot. He'd brought it all, though seemed not to realize what I wanted with all the cheap generic weapons from the Sith boarders.)

Smuggler habits die hard, and you never know when you'll find someone wanting to buy a good handful of weapons.

Point being, with a vibration cell upgrade, my sword now fit the category of _vibro_ blade, which made me much happier. Though I still felt as though the weapon was too slow and heavy, inelegant.

 _I'm not a Jedi. I'm not Bastila. I've never had a lightsaber. I'm just a smuggler. Remember that?_

Carth was talking to a duros about hiding the bodies, but I was too absorbed in mentally berating myself to notice what they said. Something inconsequential, no doubt.

I had to find Bastila. She was missing, and not just physically lost, but the part of her I carried within me burned emptily into silent darkness every moment. I could only just sense her presence, slipping away from me continually.

"She's alive, but there's something very wrong," I mumbled, then snapped my attention up. Some twi'lek was trying to sell us energy shields, but I waved him away. "We have to find her," I told Onasi urgently, staring up at him desperately.

"Relax, you won't do anyone any good if you make a scene and get us arrested."

I nodded, took a breath, then turned to the salesman. "How do we get to the Undercity?"

He laughed. "The Undercity? You'd have to be mad to want to go down there! If you knew how hard we work to stay _out_ of the lower levels, and you want to go all the way down?" He shook his head. "There's an elevator, but I hear the Sith are guarding it now."

"Where is it?"

He gave directions, and I nodded thanks. "If you're going down under, you really should have an energy shield," he added. "And at a very reasonable price."

I ignored his continued attempts to describe how amazing and useful this worthless piece of junk would be and pushed past firmly. "Not interested."

* * *

The elevator to the lower city was locked down and guarded. Of course.

Much as I would have preferred to jump the Sith soldier and head down immediately, Onasi pointed out that there were far too many witnesses on the open street. Causing a ruckus like that in the open would have gotten us moved up the Sith priority list like nothing else.

"We'll need some kind of disguise if we want to slip past this guy," Onasi muttered as we moved away, and I reluctantly agreed. As much as I had to know what had happened to Bastila, I wouldn't be any use to her - or anyone - if I got us caught by the Sith.

So we went to the one place we knew they patrolled, that wasn't quite so public. The apartment buildings.

We strolled up and down empty circles and those packed with travelers, wandered through rooms that were technically locked up securely and liberated a good sackful of assorted goods of moderate value.

Onasi didn't seem entirely pleased with my stealing everything in sight, but we would need credits any way we could soon enough.

I was just about ready to give up and attack the elevator guard no matter the consequences, when we stumbled into a Sith investigation.

They were actually interrogating an alien about _stolen Sith uniforms_.

We carefully knocked them out, then took theirs and advised the alien to get well away. If they already had a suspect, they'd have no reason to come after us, and he looked like the type who knew how to disappear.

The lower city would be one step closer to Bastila. She'd still be alive. At least, if we found her this moment I knew she would, but every minute we wasted could be the last. My sense of her was so weak, weaker than I could ever remember it being.

 _I'm not Bastila, but was I once?_ It was strange, I could remember more about her than about myself. Nothing specific, just impressions. I knew I was a smuggler, I knew she was a Jedi, but _I felt_ like a Jedi, and in my dreams I always just _knew_ that I was Bastila.

It was giving me a headache thinking about it.

"Tell me about yourself," I instructed Onasi, as we retraced our steps back to the streets.

"Me?"

"I need something to keep my mind off worrying about Bastila," I explained. "Please."

"Well, I've been a star pilot for the republic for years, seen more than my share of wars. Still, nothing in the Mandelorian wars came close to the senseless violence these _Sith_ are capable of. My… my homeworld was one of the first places destroyed in this war, bombed into submission by the Sith, and there wasn't a _thing_ we could do to stop them."

"That must be painful," I said, not sure what else to say.

Onasi didn't seem to notice, just kept right on talking, his voice growing more agitated. "I just go where I'm ordered, do as the fleet admirals tell me, but that shouldn't mean I've failed them! I haven't."

"I'm sorry," I said, worried. He seemed like he'd been holding back a lot of emotion, and it was _probably_ good for him to talk about it. But I had no idea what to say in this kind of situation, and he suddenly looked a lot more dangerous, tight on the edge.

Then he sighed, as though suddenly drained, his clenched fists loosening. "You probably mean well, but… I don't want to think about this now. We should stay focused, in any event. If you have questions, ask them later."

"Sure, another time," I agreed. We reached the street level and donned our Sith helmets in silence, then crossed to the elevator. We didn't even need a story, though I'd had one hastily prepared, the guard just assumed we were a patrol and waved us on through.

Lower city. One step closer to the undercity. One step closer to Bastila.

The lower city of Taris was certainly not a place I'd have chosen to visit. It was dim, grimy, uncared-for, and infested with street gangs fighting it out in plain sight. We had to take out more than one group of thugs representing a 'Black Vulkar' gang, whose territory we seemed to have stumbled into.

I suppose I must have been acquainted with the underworld at some point for my smuggling trade, but until we met Canderous I couldn't imagine any of these gangsters being worth my time.

He was standing in the shadow of a doorway when we approached, leaning against the wall, one hand casually on an obviously expensive custom repeater. His face was hard, everything about him was hard, and he wore a thin black sleeveless shirt that showed off his impressive strength despite his obvious age.

A confrontation was taking place in the brightly-lit intersection between two dim streets, and I thought it best to stay unnoticed. Onasi had already been dazed by one of those stunner-sticks the Vulkars favored, and they seemed inclined to attack strangers on sight. So we watched from the shadows as a weasel-faced man tried to demand payment from the thugs, and they refused it with typical tough-guy bluffery.

Then, at a gesture from the little man, Canderous strode out into the open, repeater held casually in both hands in front of him. The stance didn't quite threaten, but it was clear that he could be ready and firing in seconds.

Immediately the attitudes of the gangsters flipped - they recognized him at once and they hastily assured the weasel-faced intermediary that they would pay as promised, then scampered away.

"Too bad, I was looking forward to cracking some heads," the mercenary rumbled. He shook his head derisively. "Idiots."

I knew immediately that _this_ was the kind of contact I should be making. People like this _Canderous_ were the ones with the actual power, and well connected to those with the actual money.

I started forward to introduce us, but he glanced our direction and held up a hand. "I don't have time for small talk, I'm on a special assignment right now. And you really don't want to get on my bad side."

"Nice meeting you," I said hastily, and backed off.


	3. Taris: Part 2

The Undercity elevator proved to be a serious problem. Not only was it guarded with a number of automatic turrets, but the guard scoffed at our attempted disguise and demanded our papers. No amount of excuses about losing or misplacing them would sway him, and if we tried to fight him I knew we'd be mowed down in seconds.

Lacking a way to move forward, we resorted to fighting gangsters in their apartments and looting them for valuables. Onasi may not have had any part in that decision, but it helped make _me_ feel better.

After a few trickier security systems folded before my superior abilities, I started feeling more positive. Bastila's constant absence of a presence still weighed on me, but at least I could be fairly sure she was alive.

We found a cantina, and after asking around finally were directed to a young twi'lek girl, accompanied by a wookiee.

They claimed to navigate the Undercity frequently, and sent us to speak with their contact in the Hidden Bek gang. I had initially held the distinct impression that these small-time gangs were generally beneath my notice, but in this instance the smaller and more localized info may be our best bet.

The contact, one 'Gadon', was happy to trade their security papers for the Sith uniforms we'd stolen, and even knew exactly what had happened to Bastila. She'd been captured by the Vulkars, which made Onasi frown as much as me. A Jedi, taken by those worthless gangsters that even the pair of us injured soldiers could beat? But Gadon insisted it was the truth. They'd gone so far as to offer her, enslaved, as a prize in some intergang swoop race.

So, the Undercity was a dead end, since we knew exactly where she'd be and when. But, of course, it would be too easy for us to just _go to the race_ and set her free. Gadon insisted we break into his rival's base to steal back some stolen prototype of something, and that was about one extra step too many for me _before_ he insisted we'd need the twi'lek kid.

Two steps forward, two steps back. We could get to the Undercity now, for all the good it would do, and we knew where Bastila _would_ be, for all the good it would do.

I wanted to smash something.

Instead, we agreed to Gadon's terms and set out for the undercity elevator. The guard laughed when he saw us. "Forgot your armor this time?" he scoffed, but let us through when we showed him our papers.

I wanted so badly to shoot him in the back as the elevator closed, but I've never been good with a blaster, and Onasi is too honorable for me to waste time suggesting it.

"Would now be a good time to ask more questions?" I asked as the rickety elevator began its long, slow descent.

"Not especially, but if you really want to know…"

"Eh, I don't really care."

Onasi frowned slightly. "Then why did you ask?"

I shrugged. "I'm restless and there's nothing else to do. I had to lock my datapad out from the local networks in case the Sith can trace our connections, and I don't have any good films saved."

Onasi did chuckle at that. "Could I ask you something, then? What was your perspective of the space battle last week?"

"I don't know, I mostly was just running through corridors trying to find Bastila, fighting off Sith boarders. I couldn't tell you what was going on at a greater level."

Onasi sighed. "Me neither. I was there as an advisor, and everything happened too fast for anyone to react." His eyes flickered back to me. "Isn't it surprising that you happened to be a survivor, though?"

"Me? Why would that be surprising, I'm tough." Well, normally. Nowadays I'd be hard pressed to stay standing in a fight, much less actually win without Onasi's help. Still, I was alive and walking, which was more than could be said for most of the republic soldiers who'd crashed.

"But you were a last minute transfer. Specifically requested by Bastila. And then you just happen to be one of the few survivors?"

"Last minute transfer, was I?" I asked quietly, musing. "I didn't know that."

"Whether you know it or not, your presence here seems a little… convenient."

His tone seemed suspicious, so I frowned at him. "Are you trying to imply something about me?"

"It's nothing to do with you personally, I just don't trust anyone, and I have my reasons."

"But you would trust Bastila, at least… right?"

"I can't say that I do. She's a Jedi, but we've seen how easily they can fall. She's my superior on this mission, but I've been betrayed by superiors before. Like I said, it's nothing personal, but I won't hand my trust to anyone without being _certain_ they deserve it."

I nodded reluctantly. "That makes sense, I suppose. Though suspecting even Bastila is taking it a bit too far."

Onasi leaned over to look at me. "Are you alright? You get sort of… distant-looking every time Bastila's name comes up."

"She's very important," I repeated, blinking and taking a step back. "I have to protect her."

Onasi suddenly snorted. "Oh, no. Do you… are you in _love_ with her?"

"What?! No! It's not like that at _all_." I shuddered. "No!"

Onasi kept laughing. "If you say so, beautiful."

"No, like she's... a sister..." Though thinking back on it, I can't remember ever actually meeting her. She's my superior on the mission, and I feel like I know her better than myself. But... did we ever so much as see each other?

"Sisters, huh. Well, if you're that close I guess that explains why she'd request a special posting for a smuggler, and why you'd be so insistent on finding her."

"Well," I said, hesitantly. "Ever since I woke up here, I've had a hard time remembering much about anything. I just know I have to find Bastila." My hand rose to my chest unconsciously, pressing where the Bastila-shaped hole was dragging into dark emptiness.

"You really do love her," Onasi said, sounding surprised. "Guess that's the end to my chances."

"I don't! I mean, in a way, but she's… Bastila. You can't…" I shrugged, stammering and blushing. She was _Bastila_. "I don't know. I can't remember enough to say for sure. I _respect_ her, I want to protect her, but I'm not…"

Onasi shook his head, trying to hide a grin. "It's alright, calm down, I was only teasing you."

"Oh. Good. We have to save her."

Onasi nodded. "That's what we're doing, if this overly convoluted plan turns out anything like it should."

The elevator doors opened and we were immediately beset with the filthiest pair of beggars I've ever seen in my life. The layers of grime made up more of their clothing than anything else, and the dirt smudged into their skin looked like it had never seen a bath.

"You have to pay the toll if you want to use our elevator," they insisted harshly. "Five credits."

I glowered at them threateningly, flourishing my blade. "I'm not paying anything, and you really don't want to mess with me if you have plans to survive this encounter."

They didn't know I was still recovering from a crash, and that I'd probably collapse if I tried to seriously fight anyone. I'd been relying on Onasi's blaster skills any time we encountered a fight.

Fortunately, they didn't want to tangle with a pair of armed upworlders. "Run my brother, flee this one's wrath," one shouted as they ran away.

I rolled my eyes at Onasi. "What a planet to be stuck on, huh?"

He shook his head in agreement.

A young woman came running up, then, slightly less filthy than her predecessors. "I'm so sorry about those two, we're not all like that."

"I'm sure you're not, miss," Onasi said. "But it's a shame they're the first thing anyone will see."

"They're just desperate." Her voice was heavily accented, but not with anything I could place. Must be just Taris Undercity. "You come from the upworld, don't you?"

"We're looking for a blue twi'lek, often comes through with a wookiee," I said before she could start babbling.

"Oh, I… I don't know much about it. You should talk to Gendar, or elder Rukil."

"Thanks," I said halfheartedly. "Onasi, could you ask around? I'm feeling a bit weak."

"We have a healer, if you're injured," the girl said, pointing the way.

"I'll go talk with her, thanks."

Onasi went to ask the villagers about the twi'lek we were looking for, and I wandered over to the healer's area.

The moment I came near her eyes widened and she held out a hand to stop me. "Wait, upworlder! You can't go through this gate. It isn't safe."

I looked around, confused. "What?"

The healer gestured to a fenced-off area behind her. "You can't go in there, these people are infected with the terrible Rakghoul plague."

I was beginning to think that the farther down you went, the more insane the people on this planet became. I held my hands up placatingly and kept my words calm and gentle. "Okay, don't worry, I didn't want to go through your gate. I just need healing."

"Oh. Very well."

Onasi had done a pretty good job keeping me together, but she frowned and shook her head at a few of my injuries, and took an uncomfortably long time administering salves and injecting me with things. Only the fact that she wasn't as dirty as everyone else here gave me any confidence in her abilities, but she proved competent enough.

"You really should rest for several more days, but no one listens to me," she grumbled.

I nodded and buckled my armor back on, then stood to leave. "I'll try to rest when I can. Thanks."

After a short search, I found Onasi talking to a crazy old man — or rather being talked _to_ by a crazy old man, as he tried to back away.

Then the man saw me, and his eyes widened.

"Are you the savior of prophecy, come to lead us to freedom and the Promised Land?"

"Uh, no. Not me, sorry."

The old man's eyes were _hugely_ wide as he stared into my face eagerly, reaching out a hand as though to touch me. "You have the look of destiny about you, upworlder. If you are able to find my lost apprentice, I will know you are truly worthy."

I shied away. "Yeah, no thanks."

Onasi and I exchanged a glance, then backed away hastily. I could still feel the old madman watching me as we turned and fled.

* * *

As it turned out, we had much less trouble finding the twi'lek than we did actually obtaining her help. She came running up to us the minute we were outside the Outcast village, screaming about someone being captured by slavers.

Her wookiee.

And of course, she refused to even consider helping us until we agreed to rescue him.

As far as I'm concerned, wookiees rank somewhere below droids on the scale of useful allies. Big, yes. Scary, yes. But they refuse to wear armor, and that puts them at an extreme disadvantage when anyone competent fights them. They're also slow, hairy, and smelly.

At least we'd only be stuck with the pair as long as it took to get us to this Vulkar base. Then they could go back to running amok and not being our problem.

The gamorreans were not hard to find. Even in a sewer, their stench was easy to detect. They had patrols and guards, but Onasi took them out without much difficulty. The twi'lek girl turned out to be a pretty good hacker too, even on old-style manual locks, and we got her walking rug out safe and sound and only slightly smellier for the wear.

"Let my oath be as strong as the great wroshr trees of Kashyyyk…"

"Wait, what?" He'd been growling on about something, but it was this last that caught my attention.

"Wow, Zaalbar swearing a wookiee life-debt to you," the twi'lek said. "This is big."

I groaned. "I don't suppose there's any way to pretend this didn't happen?"

The wookiee growled. "I have sworn, and I will not forget."

The twi'lek grinned. "And I guess you're stuck with me too. Wherever Big Z goes, I'm going too."

"No way," Onasi said firmly. "We're _soldiers_. We can't take a kid with us, it would be way too dangerous."

"Hey, we can look out for ourselves, grandpa," the hacker retorted, hand on her hip. "Zaalbar can take anything _you_ can, and no one can crack a lock as fast as me."

"Very impressive," I grumbled. "Just show us this secret entrance and we can discuss it after we have Bastila."

By 'discuss', of course, I meant we would find the first loophole in the wookiee's sacred life-debt oath and drop them off where they could run amok to their hearts' content and not be my problem any more.

I could have probably found the entrance myself, it wasn't 'hidden' so much as 'obscured by being in a random corridor' of the twisty sewer maze. However, having the kid along with the codes did expedite our entrance.

And by then, I would by then take any expedition I could get. Bastila had been missing for days now, and I was beginning to worry about the exact meaning of the constant draining emptiness that had once been occupied by her presence.

 _Despair?_ I wondered, trying to put a name to the feeling. No, it was somehow _emptier_ than despair. This wasn't an emotion, it was an _absence_ , and something I couldn't understand. I needed to find her, save her, and as quickly as possible.

As soon as the door was breached, I gave the wookiee and hacker instructions to go back and wait for us at the apartment Onasi had procured us. If we didn't return in a week, then and _only_ then, they were to sell the remainder of my possessions and assume we were dead.

The wookiee, of course, protested. He wanted to protect me, not wait in an apartment.

I, of course, insisted. If he swore his life to me, then I had every right to order him to stay safely aside while I left my protection to others who I trusted just as much.

Onasi gave a nod of approval to that. He could protect me just as well as any wookiee, though why he'd fallen so easily into position as _my bodyguard_ seemed a little unusual. Then again, he was a soldier used to following orders, and I happened to be the only intelligent person around to follow.

Though he may also have been concerned for my chances of survival… there was no chance of my being physically capable of running and fighting given my recent crash-related injuries. I'd been unfortunate enough to be on the impact side when the capsule hit, smashing one shoulder and my head pretty good. I could at least look intimidating and occasionally hit someone with my vibroblade, but I was so weak from the days spent unconscious I may as well have been tossing sticks at them.

Eventually, after much argument, we came to a compromise. As long as the hacker went to safety, I'd let the wookiee come along _just until we found the stolen part_ and then he _would_ go to the apartment.

Our brief delay settled, we ventured into the heart of the enemy base.

I won't go into the monotonous details of that assault. We rescued serving wenches, sent Vulkar thugs running, and finally broke into the depths of the garage level. They were waiting for us, a group of obviously bloodthirsty thugs, but their leader was willing to talk.

He offered us a deal, to betray Gadon and work for him instead. They had Bastila, and would be willing to help weight the race in my favour if I agreed to be their assassin.

I thought about it, long and hard. Gadon had practically blackmailed us into this in the first place, refusing his help unless we ran around like his personal fetch team. We could have gotten to Bastila so much faster if we'd been able to just _go_ places and _do_ things instead of putting up with all this constant delay.

But I wasn't entirely keen on the idea of staging _another_ base assault after barely finishing the first. I was still weak from my injuries, after all. Then again, the race - just over a week away - wouldn't come any faster for my siding with one group or the other. And assaulting two bases meant _looting_ two bases.

Onasi seemed hesitant - apparently killing people as a side effect of a break-in was one thing, while agreeing to a break-in _in order_ to kill someone was less agreeable. But he agreed to follow my lead, which might have seemed odd to me at first, but I was quickly growing used to it. Never let it be said I argue against being followed. My decisions, obviously, are the best, so I began to realize it was only natural that everyone would gravitate to following me.

In the end, I agreed to the Vulkars' terms, and they escorted us firmly off their premises.

We returned to the apartment for the night. I didn't want to go straight from the Vulkar base to the Bek's, and we'd all sustained minor injuries in our many battles throughout the day.

Onasi and the hacker quarreled a bit, he trying to protect her and she thinking she knew everything. I left them to it, wrapped the pillow around my head to muffle the argument at least a little. They'd have to learn to get along if we were going to be stuck with this pair of useless civilians, but I wasn't going to get involved. And if the little brat tried anything with _me_ , she'd get what was coming to her, wookiee or no wookiee.


	4. Taris: Part 3

_Emptiness._

 _Darkness._

 _Weakness._

 _I am alone, and I am helpless._

 _I am Bastila, great and powerful Jedi Knight, and yet…_

 _I am…_

 _nothing._

 _There is no emotion, so why am I not at peace?_

* * *

We slept late into the morning. Despite my uneasy dreams, I felt much stronger and actually capable for the first time since the Endar Spire was attacked.

Carth and I headed to the cantina for a late breakfast before our assassination mission. While there, I overheard a pair of mercs heading into a dimly lit back room, and trailed after them curiously. Turns out, the backroom of Javyar's Cantina housed more than just a bar and gambling tables.

And that's when I met Zax.

The hutt was small by their standards, but obviously used to the power and authority of his position. He offered me a whole list of bounties, and I didn't think twice before taking the whole lot.

We needed the credits, and what better cover for an investigation than bounty hunting? We would need to go places, snoop around, ask questions, and behave violently. Literally perfect cover.

"This really seems questionable," Onasi said when I showed him the list. "Those government bounties, they're not so bad, but most of this just sounds like contract killing. Would we really kill someone for as little reason as this?"

"We could use the cover. We've been all over, asking questions; better to be seen as contract killers than caught as republic soldiers."

Onasi frowned. "I… guess I can't argue with that logic, but it still feels wrong."

I waved away the concern. "There's nothing we could do to change their fate, once they're on the list, _someone_ would kill them if we didn't. At least this way, the credits will go to a good cause. And we'll need _something_ to occupy our time waiting for the race."

The race wasn't for another five days. I'd argued, persuaded, and threatened, but the Vulkars absolutely _would not_ give up Bastila now that she'd been offered as the prize. They would help me win her back, so long as the 'glory' was attributed to their worthless gang, but I'd have to play it their way. Which meant waiting until the Taris season opener, in five days.

It made me feel ill. Being so close to finally understanding what was wrong, what Bastila meant, and getting _off_ this worthless planet - and having to just sit by and _wait_.

So, if I chose to fill my days with contract kills to temper my fury, Onasi would have to live with it.

I invited the wookiee along to the Bek base invasion, which of course brought the topic up with the hacker. She did _not_ like the idea that we were 'betraying' her friend Gadon, but I convinced her that they didn't care about her as much as they claimed to and asked her to quietly find out as much information as she could about our list of targets for when we returned.

She only agreed reluctantly, but without further argument.

The Beks let us in without question, but once we started breaking into their security doors they quickly realized we were no longer acting as their brainless lackeys. They attacked, and we attacked back, and they died.

I know I may seem to have written off wookiees, and for the most part they are useless. But they are _strong_. Watching him tear through the crowd of gangsters was a thing of beauty. I would _not_ want to get on his bad side, at least not without better defences than a single vibroblade.

Still, wookiees are nearly useless. I have always believed in the power of persuasion and thought, that strategy can accomplish what brute force cannot, and wookiees are the folly of blunt strength personified.

We tore through the base, tore through Gadon (he had some very nice equipment, which I appropriated for our own future use) and returned to the Vulkars with news of our victory before noon.

They offered to let us stay at their base, which I politely declined. We'd come back the night before the race, so they could show me the swoop, but until then we had our own affairs to attend to.

And their base, like everyone in it, _smelled_. I wanted to spend as little time in their presence as possible.

The hacker had found a good amount of information about our targets while we were off taking care of gangsters. We'd dealt with Selven before being asked, as it turned out. She'd been one of those who'd attacked us on sight back when we were ransacking apartments, so that was one down without even trying. Dia happened to have the room just down the hall from ours, so that bounty was a cinch.

The twi'lek Matrik was harder. I thought he might be the guy down the hall, trying to sell worthless energy shields, but the description didn't quite match. There were quite a lot of twi'leks on Taris, apparently they were the only non-human species with near-human rights.

I'm not going to get into their silly ideas of equality and subjugation, suffice it to say they make even less sense than most planetary prejudices.

Anyway, Matrik was much better at hiding than Largo - _that_ fellow had merely registered his room under a false name, which barely slowed our hacker down when he'd left the rest of his personal information intact. Matrik was harder to ferret out, though he didn't put up much of a fight when we finally found him.

While a good way of taking out aggression and frustration over the constant delays, the bounty hunting work was not enough to actually occupy my attention much of the time. A few minutes of actual fighting, with the rest being waiting or traveling, I found myself getting bored and restless. I wandered the streets, picking fights with drunks, threatening those who annoyed me, and generally gaining a reputation as someone _not_ to be messed with.

I spent a good amount of time over those endless three days, whenever not bothering Onasi with questions about his past, fighting in the Duel Arena. It was a good, safe, high-paying way to work my strength back up, combat practice with a purpose. Also, our final bounty target frequented the place and I was hoping to catch sight of him.

Onasi was less useful, but more entertaining. I could almost guarantee a good shouting match any time I decided to press him, another good release for my pent up frustration about my failure to reach Bastila, and he did share a surprising amount about himself once we got past his insistence that no one could be trusted.

"When I think of all those who betrayed me, the one who stands above the rest is the one I respected the most. Admiral Saul Kareth, who left us for the Sith, betrayed every secret we'd entrusted to him, and personally led the attack on my homeworld. He's half the reason Malak has done so well in this war. And I could have stopped him."

"That's way too much responsibility to take on yourself, Onasi."

"That's just it," Onasi replied, shaking his head. "He came to me, talked about how the Republic was going to lose and I should think about myself, my survival. He was trying to recruit me to the Sith, but I… I thought it was just idle talk. He was my mentor, taught me everything about being a soldier. He couldn't be serious. If I hadn't been so naive, I could have put a stop to it all right then."

I scoffed. "Do you really believe that?"

"I don't know. Maybe. We argued, before he left, and I just let him walk away. He might have killed me if I'd tried to stop him, or I may have killed him, but either way it was stupid to let him go."

"So that's why you're so obsessed with betrayal," I mused. "I guess having your mentor turn on your cause like that would be scarring."

"I've fought him for years now, and if I ever catch up to him, he will regret what he's done." He gripped his blaster tightly. "He will _regret_ it," he repeated firmly.

"I don't doubt it," I said. "Don't worry, if we ever get the chance, I'll support your vengeance completely."

Onasi relaxed his hand, furrowed his brow at me. "You know, you can be really dark at times," he said with an odd inflection. "Some of the things you've done - _we've_ done, I don't know what to think."

"Then don't think about it," I told him blithely. "That's what I'm for."

"Was that supposed to be an insult?"

I grinned at him mischievously. "I could compare your intellect to that of a gamorrean, but lucky for you I'm feeling generous, and will merely say that you smell like a damp wookiee."

"Now you're just _trying_ to be infuriating," he grumbled.

"See? You _are_ smarter than a gamorrean!" I said, but barely suppressed a giggle. His grouchy expression was adorable.

He didn't laugh. His eyes were still grim, and I felt my smile fade as my own mirth evaporated, to be replaced with genuine concern.

"It's okay, Carth," I said. "You can talk to me."

"There is more to the story, but I don't want to think about it right now," he said, then managed a flicker of a smile. "You used my name, that's got to be a good sign."

"Don't read too much into it, Onasi." My answering smile was only a little forced.

And tucked away carefully in the back of my mind was a new objective for when I had the time and freedom. Hunt down and destroy Saul Kareth.

* * *

It was the second day of my forays into the duel arena that I finally caught sight of the former champion, Bendak Starkiller, my final quarry if I wanted a 5/5 for bounties turned in. He sat casually in the corner of the Pazaak lounge, watching the room from behind his helmet. He wore golden mandalorian body armor, which said something for both his abilities and his taste in protective gear.

"Go away," he ordered, waving a hand in a shooing gesture. "I'm not giving out autoprints to fans today."

"I'm not a fan, I'm here to collect the bounty on your head."

He laughed. "This cantina's security systems are unparalelled. You'd be surprised the kinds of things this sort tend to try if not under surveillance once they've had a few drinks. And you won't catch me anywhere less secure, no matter how you watch me. Trust me, kid, you're way too new to this. I've been on that bounty list for _years_."

"You're a duelist, right? Fight me."

"Eh, you haven't impressed me. I did watch a few of your fights with Ice. Nothing like a pair of ladies trying to smash each other's skulls in, but your techniques are clumsy. You're the sort of fighter who can only be something with expensive gear, no actual talent."

"I may not have talent, but at least _I'm_ not a coward hiding behind cantina security cams!" I snapped.

He laughed. "Alright, you have spirit at least. Tell you what, if you beat all those other pretenders I'll consider facing you in a duel. Not one of those suppression-field sissy matches, mind. A real, proper duel. A death match."

"You're on. I'll be back."

He chuckled and waved me away, but I had more than enough pent emotion even without his insults.

I took Ice down in the first match of the night, then faced against Marl twice. He won both times, his superior experience and techniques leaving me hard-pressed to keep up.

But Bendak's taunts about gear made me think about it, and Onasi and I spent the evening going through all the various armors I'd looted from various apartments and opponents until we found the highest quality one, upgraded it as best we could, and refined the edge on my blade.

Onasi shook his head at the overflowing footlocker. "We really should sell some of this at some point, isn't that the whole reason you have it here?"

"I have it in case we _need_ to sell it," I told him, then tossed him a scope. "Here, upgrade your blaster with this."

"Why would a blaster need an upgraded scope?" he asked, frowning. "I'm not a sniper, and I'm experienced enough to know where I'm aiming."

"It'll increase accuracy? I guess." I shrugged. "I don't really know much about guns."

Onasi laughed. "That is obvious."

* * *

The following day was spent in frustrating duel after frustrating duel. Marl was far too skilled an opponent to treat as practice, and I ended up unconscious on the floor a half dozen times that day.

"Well, think of it this way," Onasi said as we visited the medical offices the fifth time. "At least now the odds will be really highly against you, so when you do win we'll make a fortune."

I smiled at that. He may have trust issues and be generally opposed to everything I do, but he's a pretty good fellow to have around.

"Thanks, Onasi. That does make me feel better about the fact that I'm about to be beaten into unconsciousness with a vibroblade yet again."

"You don't _have_ to do this," he pointed out. "It's not like we're broke anymore."

"You clearly have no concept of how much ships cost, even junky ones. If we want to get out of here on our terms and not on a Sith prison transport, we'll need a _large_ fortune." I groaned, rolled my shoulders, and stood. "Well, here goes again."

Onasi shook his head, but accompanied me to the arena. I'd set the hacker and her wookiee - _my_ wookiee now, I supposed - to asking quietly around about any ships available and what exactly the Sith defences were, so when we did finally get Bastila we'd be in as good a position to get her safely away from Taris as possible.

Once I finally beat Marl, Twitch was almost simple to take down. He was wild, unpredictable, and not nearly as clever or strategic as the older man. He'd likely beaten Marl the same I had - luck, and being younger.

Which only left Bendak. He was surprised to see me back, but I showed him the replay of my fight with Twitch and he nodded.

"I underestimated you, kid. Alright, I'll agree to face you in a death match. It'll take some time for the hutt to set it up, there's a very specific audience that needs to be contacted, bribes to officials, paperwork. See you in three days, for the last time."

" _Your_ last time," I told him firmly, but if it was going to be three days I realized I might not be there.

And I realized I might not _want_ to be there. I'd barely beaten Marl, and if Bendak were significantly better than him, I was in no condition to be fighting alone to the _death_.

Onasi must have seen my expression, but he didn't comment.

"Come on, let's get home," I growled.

"No pazaak tonight?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. Most evenings, after fighting or bounty hunting, I'd make a tidy little profit at the gambling tables.

"Tomorrow," I said. Skilled medical team or no, I'd been smacked around too much of the day to have energy remaining for anything but sleep.


	5. Taris: Part 4

The last day before the race passed as slowly as it possibly could. With no duels _or_ bounties to occupy my time, I ended up in the cantinas most of the day, restlessly wandering from table to table, trying to start conversations and failing, too distracted to concentrate on the games.

I came out ahead by the end of the day, but only by a bare handful of credits. It was basically a waste of a day. By the time I headed to the Vulkar base to go over the swoop and prepare for the following morning's event, I was in no mood to speak to anyone.

I left Onasi to watch over the others while I went alone to the Vulkar base. No one else was allowed to the track, and I might as well leave them to sleep comfortably since there was no reason for them to come with me.

The night was long and restless, full of unfamiliar environs and sounds. I could almost feel Bastila calling out to me in my dreams. She was so close, so close, _so close_ …

They brought me to the swoop track in the morning. As soon as I set foot in the administrative section, I felt the emptiness in my soul sharply reverse.

Bastila stood in a cage off to the side, lolling limply in time with her breathing, her eyes unfocused and downcast. A guard stood watch over her, but the moment I saw her I felt her come slowly back to awareness. As though something within me was combining with her, bringing us back toward balance.

My first heat around the swoop track took the lead by nearly eight seconds, though only a handful of racers had gone before and it probably wouldn't hold up once the pros got warmed up. As soon as it was done, I went and chatted casually with the guard so I'd have an excuse to stand near Bastila.

She glanced about, not seeming to focus, not seeming to recognize me ( _was_ I her sister? Why did she look so unfamiliar, when she felt so much like a part of me? We really didn't resemble one another at all…) and she didn't react to anything around her. But I could feel her coming to life, the pull toward her was once again a tangible thing within me, not a swirling emptiness.

There was an explosion of sound behind me, cheering and screaming as one of the Bek racers beat my time. The swoop mechanic waved me over, and I reluctantly left Bastila's side to race a second heat.

I didn't do well at all. The distraction was enough that I missed two boost pads right near the beginning and smashed straight into a handful of obstacles. I came in three seconds slower than my first time, and the accelerator was starting to overheat.

I tried again, but the dual distraction of concern for Bastila and worry over my overheating components led to a yet more disastrous run. Even the _Vulkar_ racers laughed, supposedly on the same team as I and none of them had come close to my initial time.

The mechanic rigged a makeshift cooling system, warning that we only had a few tries left. I glanced at Bastila, who maintained the pretense of helplessness as her strength steadily recovered, and steeled myself with resolve. I _would_ save her. And I would _not_ blow myself up in the process.

I hit the booster pads, swerved just short of obstacles, and flowed down the track as though dancing with it. I don't know how else to describe it, everything was suddenly clear and perfect and still, even as I blazed faster than any heat before, hitting nearly every accelerator, screeching in with a time no one, _no one_ , would be able to top.

The remainder of the afternoon passed calmly. Racers tried to beat my time, failed, wandered off discouraged until only the most dedicated remained, trying again and again…

I sat beside Bastila's cage, sipping water or nibbling my lunch, waiting. Sensing her grow stronger by the hour. I closed my eyes and leaned back, absorbing the sounds of the event. The voices and clattering of mechanics, the screaming engines of the swoops whooshing past as other racers ran their pointless heats, trying vainly to match the perfection of artistry that was my final race.

I didn't know, at the time, how I'd done it. The Force was with me, in that last race, guiding my motions and pulling me forward. It wanted me and Bastila to be together, and free, for only then would we be able to pursue our destiny.

And when Brejik came forward at last to finalize the race and finally turn her over to me, I barely listened until I heard him say the word 'Jedi', and then my world came crashing apart.

"Obviously, I can't just turn her over to you. It would be far too dangerous, trying to keep a Jedi as a slave."

I growled at him wordlessly, fury blazing up in me - and matched by an answering flare from Bastila.

"I might have something to say about that," she snapped, the cage springing open at a wave of her hand. A quick kick, and she relieved the guard of his weapon and twirled it expertly.

Brejik's hand went to his own sword. "Impossible! You were restrained by a neural disruptor, how could you possibly have summoned the will to free yourself?"

I felt a glow of satisfaction, deep within myself, even as I glowered at the man who tried to keep us apart. Between us, there is strength. Between us, there is power. Now that I have Bastila back, nothing will stand in the way of our victory.

"To me!" Brejik commanded frantically. "Kill this woman, kill the rider, kill them all!" He didn't understand what had happened, of course, he only saw me standing beside his Jedi prisoner with my anger directed at him, making no move to recapture her.

I hid behind the cage. I hadn't brought my sword, just a backup pistol, and I'm a _terrible_ aim. I wordlessly offered Bastila my strength, and she blazed with power and speed as she cut down any who stood in her way. As much frustration as it had taken for me to reach her, she deserved the chance to wreak vengeance on those who had held her so cruelly for so long.

The tension of the weeks before faded away, watching her move so cleanly, so smoothly. I wished I could have been here sooner, but now everything was right.

Except… _I'm not Bastila. I'm not even a Jedi. So who am I?_

And she didn't seem to recognize me. Assuming I was just another civilian, caught up in it all, she stood over Brejik's body musing aloud.

"Maybe that'll teach them to think twice before trying to hold a Jedi as a slave." She glanced around and noticed me as I stood to walk toward her. "And you, if you think you can take me as a 'prize'…" she began harshly, then trailed off. "Wait… I don't believe this. You're a republic soldier, aren't you?"

"I came to save you," I said, strangely disappointed at her casual ignorance. She recognized me, but only as a soldier. Only as a subordinate. My hand went instinctively to my chest, to where the Bastila-shaped pulse was beating strong and sure alongside my heartbeat. I would always be able to find her now, I was sure of it. I knew her, I _knew_ her. But… she didn't seem to know me.

She scoffed. " _Save_ me? Is that what you were trying to do? Well, if you hadn't noticed, I managed to free _myself_ and save you and everyone else here from those Vulkars. Brejik would have had your hide if I hadn't been here to stop him."

 _I wouldn't have been anywhere near these stupid gangs if I hadn't spent every breath searching until I found you,_ I wanted to say. But this was _Bastila_. I couldn't just snap at her like an irate child, I had to be strong. I had to see her view.

She'd just been imprisoned under a mental disruption field that didn't allow coherent thought. As far as she knew, she'd probably just been captured and brought straight here. My appearance _would_ be somewhat bizarre, and if she couldn't sense me like I could sense her, then she probably _didn't_ realize that it was only by my presence here that she'd recovered enough strength of will to save herself.

Which also didn't diminish the fact that she _had_ saved my life from Brejik. I could certainly not have fought him down in my current condition.

She must have seen my expression, because her face softened.

"I shouldn't be so hard on you, you did _try_ to save me after all. Very well, now that I'm back in charge of this mission, I need to know what resources we have available so we can find a way off this planet. Were we the only survivors?"

"Onasi's waiting for us at the apartment, and we picked up a few strays who might be of… limited usefulness." I paused to mentally inventory our material assets - we'd made a good amount of money between gambling, bounties, and duels. I had a good stash of assorted weaponry, and more grenades than we could ever need.

"Carth Onasi is alive?" Bastila said, before I could list off our equipment stores. "Finally, some good news. Perhaps I judged you too hastily. If he sent you to save me, there must be more to you than I at first realized. Please, take me to him right away. Between the three of us, we should be able to find a way off the planet before the Sith realize we're here."

"They shouldn't suspect us, we've been covering our tracks pretty well so far," I told her with a smirk. "We're local heroes, in fact, and I've decimated both the major gangs in these streets. As long as we keep you out of sight, we should be able to move without fear of notice."

* * *

If I was disappointed that Bastila didn't seem to recognize me except as 'a republic soldier', her reaction to Onasi when we reached the apartment was even worse. She promptly started berating him - us both, really - for not having a better plan, despite the fact that without our painstaking weeks of effort she would have remained a mindless slave until someone decided to turn her over to the Sith.

They argued, and my self-control snapped, and we all shouted until the janitor looked in wondering if we needed help with the plumbing.

Once we convinced the man we didn't need his services and sent him away, Onasi took charge and insisted that it didn't matter who was 'in charge', all that mattered would be getting off Taris safely. Bastila agreed to listen to his more experience-based advice on strategy, and I sat back confident that when action started happening, they'd all listen to me like everyone always did.

I may have been pretty close to useless in a fight against more than a single opponent due to the lingering aftereffects of the crash, but I could always analyze the situation and issue snap orders that worked. Even Onasi, with his years of battle experience, was more accustomed to grand-scale space battles than street-level conflicts.

So, we put Bastila in armor, gave her a visor that obscured her face, and changed her hairstyle. It wouldn't protect her from notice by dark Jedi, but if we found ourselves in the vicinity of any of _those_ we'd be doomed without her in any event.

She still grumbled about being treated as anything less than the supreme leader or whatever, but as much as I respected her strength and our connection, I wasn't about to let her talk like that to me.

I tried my best to be respectful, on principal, but the longer she went on acting _so childish_ the harder it became to do so. I still knew she was important, unquestionably essential, to my future destiny. Something about her just drew me, like a magnet; I couldn't even consider resisting the pull of her. But the Bastila in my soul felt so much stronger than the reality.

And, yes. I was angry. I'd gone to all this effort, all this expense, all this _worry_ , day in day out. And here she was acting as though it was _less_ than her due? The Bastila I knew… the Bastila I _thought_ I knew, wasn't so petty.

Whatever our future destiny, that didn't mean I had to put up with her whining. I was in charge here, whether they liked it or not. So, when she kept glancing at me as if she wanted something, I was prepared for a fight.

"You wanted to say something?" I demanded.

Bastila at least managed a calm tone, to start. "I'd like to know what happened on Taris, while I was a prisoner. What you and Carth were doing, your progress."

"You mean, before we saved you from slavery?"

She huffed. "As I recall, I fought off a mob of armed gangsters while you hid in the corner like a frightened civilian. It would be far more accurate to say I saved _you_."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "I notice you didn't make a move in the _weeks_ you were captive before we showed up. If you're so great and powerful on your own, why did it take you so long?"

"I… I admit the brawl you instigated made it easier to escape." She glanced at me for a long moment, and I felt something strange. Instead of the usual awareness of her presence, I felt an almost _vibrating_ sense from her, as though she were trying to reach back through the ties between us into _me_.

"You know it was more than that," I said wonderingly, my anger dissipated in the light of this new mystery.

"Your presence at the swoop track was… an unusual coincidence. You somehow managed to track me down, become the swoop champion, and avoid detection by the Sith the entire time. A Jedi could have done as much, with the help of the Force, but for a common soldier… when you were chosen for the mission I'm sure no one expected so much."

I smirked at her. "If I'm a Jedi now, can I have a lightsaber?"

She drew herself up, stared down at me. "I never said you were a Jedi. It is clear the Force is working through you, but that does _not_ make you a Jedi. Nor would I suggest you try using a lightsaber, you'd probably maim yourself beyond even what I can heal."

"But if I can use the Force…" I raised my eyebrows at her expectantly.

"The Force is in all of us, to one extent or another. It binds the universe together, connects all living things." Her tone was growing brittle, her words staccato. "It is _possible_ that you are what the Jedi would call Force Sensitive. It is possible that, were you younger, you could have become a Jedi someday. But handing an untrained adult a lightsaber - even a Force Sensitive - is like handing a child a box of explosives to play with. It would be foolish and dangerous to everyone."

"I'm sure I could twirl that thing as well as you can," I told her, reaching for her lightsaber. _My lightsaber,_ a corner of myself still insisted, though having Bastila here was steadily weakening my subconscious belief that I _was_ her.

She pulled away. "It would be utterly irresponsible of me to allow such an attempt."

"If I hadn't rescued you, you wouldn't even have it. Doesn't that earn me anything?"

She sighed. "Very well, if you will stop trying to steal my lightsaber, I will concede that you were… instrumental in my escape."

"I prefer the term 'essential' myself," I said.

"Essential, then. However, I can't help but notice we are still trapped on Taris. What do you plan to do about that, oh _slightly_ Force Sensitive one?"

"I plan to spectacularly save everyone, destroy Malak and Saul Kareth, and conquer the universe," I proclaimed grandly.

For some reason, Bastila seemed to grow pale at that. "That's… quite a list," she said, sounding a bit strangled.

I affected a dramatic bow. "I know, I know. My list _used_ to include acquiring a purple lightsaber, but _someone_ seems to think I'd end up chopping off my own limbs."

"Compared to some of the items on the list, the thought of you with a lightsaber suddenly doesn't sound so insane," Bastila said faintly.

I grinned at her. "See? Now you understand." I gave my vibroblade a disgruntled swing. "These things are so inelegant and heavy. I could _really_ use a proper weapon."

She nodded, weakly. "I'll… give it consideration. For now, you go on ahead. I think I need to… meditate."


	6. Taris: Part 5

Onasi and I had hardly set foot out of the apartment before a messenger came up to us, with an invitation from Canderous Ordo to meet him at the cantina.

I grinned. From our previous meeting, he'd seemed like exactly the sort of person I'd love to work with. And if _he_ was approaching _me_ , it meant we'd be in the best position for bargaining.

I considered leaving the others behind, but my raids on the lower city gangs meant I probably had more enemies than ever before. Everyone ought to know better than to mess with us, of course, but not everyone uses common sense when angry. An ambush could probably take me out.

I weighed the risks of showing Bastila to someone so well-connected, and decided that as much as I wanted to keep her with me at all times it would be best to leave her behind this time. That meant Onasi and the wookiee, since I _did_ want impressive-looking bodyguards.

Canderous was waiting in Javyar's Cantina, waved us over when he saw us enter.

"I saw you in the swoop race, very impressive. You seem like the sort of woman who can get results, and results are what I need right now."

"What kind of results?" I asked.

"My employer hasn't been living up to his agreement lately, so I figure it's time to break this Sith quarantine and get myself off this useless backwater planet. From what I hear, your associate has been asking the kind of questions that mean you want to get off Taris as well."

"Careful," Onasi whispered. "A mercenary who will betray one employer wouldn't hesitate to turn on us either."

Canderous barely glanced at Onasi. "I'm not talking to you," he said in as mild a voice as his deep growl could manage. "I'm talking to your far more interesting friend."

I cleared my throat. "You seem to know a lot about me, when we only met once."

"I take note of interesting people, and your performance in the race yesterday made it clear you have what it takes to get the job done. Breaking the Sith quarantine isn't a job for anyone less than exceptional. The Sith have a lot of auto-targeting guns that would blast any unauthorized ships out of the sky. The codes to allow departure are in the Sith base, which no one has yet been able to enter."

"You want me to break into the Sith military base?" I asked, startled.

"From what I hear, you've also agreed to fight a death-match with Bendak Starkiller. Anyone crazy enough to agree to that is certainly not averse to risk." Canderous shrugged. "Besides, you really don't have a choice. If you want to leave Taris you'll need those codes one way or another. And while you could try to get them on your own and find your own ship, I have the resources needed to break into the base, and I know where to find a ship to get us away safely."

"If you have so many resources, why aren't you just doing it yourself? Why do you need me?"

"You're an unknown. Everyone knows me, and who I work for, and where I live. If _I_ broke into the base, the ship I plan to use would be locked down before I ever reached it."

"Much as I hate to admit it, he's probably right," Onasi said. "We are going to need a ship, and this is the first lead we've found with a chance of working out."

"So, assuming we agree to work together, how do we get into the Sith base?" I asked.

"I ordered a top of the line slicer droid to be custom built for this job, and it should be ready for pickup. Just tell Janice that Canderous sent you and she'll sell it to you. There's no door on Taris that thing can't crack. I'll be waiting here for news of your success."

I nodded understanding. With someone as dangerous and competent as Canderous, I didn't want to insult him by pointing out how expensive a custom droid was, and that even if we sold half my loot we'd be hard pressed to afford it. If that was the only price of a shuttle off Taris it would be well worth the cost.

"We'll be back when we have those codes," I told him firmly. I'd always been good at projecting confidence, whatever the circumstances. I smiled slightly, nodded respectful farewell to Canderous, and gestured Onasi and the wookiee to follow me out.

* * *

There was only one droid shop in the area, run by a twi'lek woman named Janice. As expected, the order had not been paid for in advance, so I sent the wookiee to sell whatever was least likely to be useful from my stash back at the apartment while I tried my best to bargain the droid's price down.

By the time the wookiee returned, I'd somehow managed to convince Janice that the Exchange would shut her shop down if she tried to charge us at all, and we were halfway to the Sith base with the slicer droid. A very sturdy little fellow, T3-M4 by designation, he got the door open in seconds.

"Alright, this is where we earn our pay," I said, but made no move toward the lift that would lead inside. I wasn't exactly afraid, but Onasi's dark stories about Force-based torture and interrogation were suddenly rising in my memory.

"It's our only way off the planet," I said, staring at the lift. But even my projected confidence wasn't enough to cover the tremble in my voice. "We can do this. It's only the Sith base. The stronghold of the enemy we've been hiding from desperately since we arrived."

"We can find another way," Onasi said, his voice gruff but his tone gentle. "The mandalorian merc can't be the only one with access to a ship."

I shook my head. "Canderous is right, we need these codes no matter who we end up running with. And we already took his droid, it's way too late to back out of the deal now. Trust me, I know the underworld and he is _not_ someone we want to cross."

I strode firmly toward the lift, Onasi and the wookiee close behind me.

We descended it tense silence, Onasi checking his blasters and the wookiee not bothering to sheath his twin vibroblades. I'd have liked to go dual-bladed, but in my current condition I could barely handle one. And, to be completely honest, I still pictured myself as using lightsabers.

I had Bastila now, surely she could be convinced to make an exception for me. Eventually.

The lift door opened and the receptionist frowned, her hand darting to the desk. "What are you doing in here?"

"Don't press that alarm if you want to live," I growled threateningly. "Just leave quietly, and this need never concern you."

Her lekku twitched, and she took a very fast step away from the desk. "Don't shoot, I just work here! I'm sorry, the sith made me stay. I'll go."

"Just don't tell anyone you saw us, and we can all put this behind us."

She nodded hastily and ran for the lift. We moved out into the room, quietly spreading out. Onasi frowned at the computer panel on the desk, while I listened at each door. One had the telltale murmur of bored voices, guards on duty chatting about. . . my exploits in the duel arena? I smiled at that, my meteoric rise from newcomer to champion in just under a week was certainly one for the books.

"Ah, got it," Onasi said from the desk, and the door opposite the lift slid open. The hallway was empty, silent. My smile slipped from proud to nervous, the gravity of our task settling back into me.

Bastila was safe, still back in the apartment, and her emotions were steady and strong. Well, from the simmering fury I sensed it seemed likely she'd crossed paths with our resident smartmouth hacker. All the better, let them get their posturing out of the way while I wasn't anywhere near.

I still felt like Bastila should be stronger, emotionally and mentally. She felt like a solid core of power and strength, but her conversation belied her interior. Either she was incredibly clever, concealing her true ability beneath a facade of immaturity, or she really didn't understand her own true potential.

"Are we going?" Onasi whispered, gesturing to the corridor. I jumped slightly, then nodded and stopped probing the depths of my Bastila-sense.

"We need to play this smart," I said quietly, frowning at the hallway. "This is a major installation, the chances of just stumbling on something as important as the launch codes are miniscule. You got into that computer?"

Onasi nodded, and we crossed back to the terminal. It was the reception desk, so access was limited, but we were able to get into the camera system easily.

I flipped through the cameras, muttering quietly to myself as each appeared. "Barracks, no. Armory, no. Though if it weren't for the turrets and the time crush…"

Onasi frowned at me and I waved him off.

"Smuggler habits, shush. Medical, nah. Secondary barracks, uh-uh. Control room." I took a deep breath against the sudden tension in my stomach. "Heavily guarded. Probably those computers will have better access, if not the codes themselves. We should go there."

Onasi nodded, his blasters still ready to hand. "I'm ready when you are."

"It'll be an actual firefight," I pointed out, "and I'm afraid my aim is no good. I wasn't ever the fighter of the team, I was the strategist. My partner did the muscle work."

Onasi's stance and tone didn't change, firm confidence. "Don't worry, I'm trained for this kind of thing. Just point your wookiee to his targets and I'll take care of mine."

The wookiee growled something, but I wasn't paying enough attention to translate. I started down the hallway toward the control room, mentally counting off doors. Unfortunately, the first room we had to cross was guarded by a pair of soldier droids. Not the _best_ model in the galaxy, but the best Taris could offer by what I'd seen.

Onasi leapt into action before I'd more than frozen, ducking behind the doorframe to fire into the weaker spots. The wookiee roared and charged it, smashing the other apart with his blades. The fight was over in moments, but the echoes of blaster fire and metal clanging on metal seemed far too loud to have escaped notice.

My heart was beating way too fast.

"Time to hurry," I said, my hands actually trembling slightly. I suddenly wished I hadn't left Bastila behind. She was even more of a danger to the Sith, she was more recognizable and definitely on their wanted list. But having someone with a lightsaber along would have soothed my concern considerably.

We hurried down the halls, but in my haste I must have made a wrong turn. Instead of reaching the control room, we ended up in front of another elevator leading farther down into the base.

Guarded by an imported assault droid, and discrete turrets. Before we could turn to go back, the corridor vibrated and the door slammed shut behind us, sealing us in.

"What kind of security system is this?!" I shouted, charging the droid with my single vibroblade. The wookiee was right beside me, and Onasi fired into it as fast as his blasters would shoot. "Isn't the idea of security to keep people locked _out_ of places?"

No one answered, embroiled as we were in a desperate fight for our lives. The droid wasn't that smart, luckily. It fired at us seemingly randomly, slow moving bolts that were easy to dodge.

At least until we got in close. Then it switched to bludgeoning us with its massive blunt gun-arms. I didn't quite get knocked unconscious by its first blow to my head, but it was a near thing. The wookiee was able to catch the arm between his swords and throw the droid back. As it tried to recover its balance, Onasi blasted it farther into its fall, and I stumbled to the turrets to smash their guns.

By the time the turrets were dealt with, the wookiee had finished dismantling the droid past any threat it could pose. I glanced back at the locked door, then at the elevator ahead of us. We'd have to find another control panel to get the door unlocked. If we hadn't already hacked open any door the receptionist had access to, we'd have been trapped completely between the two sealed doors, easy targets for the Sith.

I was still wobbling and unsteady, but even then I could tell the only chance was to go farther in. I slapped a healing pack on my scraped head and stepped into the elevator, Onasi and the wookiee close behind.

As we descended, I suddenly felt like Bastila again. I couldn't have described it, but all my trepidation and concern vanished in a flush of confidence and surety that was stronger than anything I could have pretended. I felt as though I could raise a hand and command the sky, as though my lightsaber was but a thought away, coolly calm and tense only with expectation for battle.

I let out a harsh breath, baring my teeth in excitement and flexing a hand on my vibroblade's hilt. If it was a little heavy, a little clumsy, it was still my blade.

Onasi looked at me with concern. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly. "You look. . . intense."

"Something's waiting down there, and we're going to show them who we are." My words were a statement, warm with eagerness, calm with certainty.

Onasi kept looking at me strangely, but didn't comment further.

The doors slid open.

An ugly bald man sat on the floor, a double-bladed sword across his lap, wearing a breastplate and a dark skirt. If I weren't so focused and battle-ready I would have laughed. He frowned in annoyance as he stood, twirling the weapon in threat.

"Who dares disturb my meditation?" he demanded, irritation thick in his voice. "You will pay for this interrup—" He suddenly stopped, stood straighter, stared directly at me. "Wait. I sense the Force is strong with you. _Very_ strong. Who would have thought a Force Adept would be found on such an insignificant planet."

I smiled thinly at him. Bastila wasn't the only one to notice my apparent semi-jedi nature. Maybe beating this fool would convince her to build me a lightsaber.

He relaxed into a combat ready stance as he continued talking. "However, your talent will be no match for a disciple of the Dark Side. My master will surely reward me with a lightsaber after I destroy you."

I grinned at that. "Get in line, buddy. You're not the only one hoping for a lightsaber out of this fight!"

He frowned slightly, as though confused, but didn't let my words distract him. Already moving, he jumped forward, spinning his blade in smooth arcs just shy of hitting himself, slicing endlessly through the air around him as he charged.

I felt a charge in the air, thick and sharp, comfortable and familiar. An energy surged around us, part of me and completely foreign at the same time. I felt it in a similar way to how I felt Bastila, as something within me and yet not part of me.

But the energy flow didn't stay around me the way it did my opponent. It touched me, crackled through me, but flowed on past and beyond me. With him, it gathered around and through him and lashed out at his gesture.

I swung my blade toward him, as Onasi fired once and stopped mid-step as though frozen. The blade connected, and then the bald man raised his hand. Energy and life were _yanked_ from my chest, and I collapsed into darkness.


	7. Taris: Part 6

_"A connection can be a weapon, if you want it to be," I told her, gesturing out the window. Dozens of other ships flew with us, in the loose formation I'd designated for them. We had to be wary, even here. "It can be a weakness, but more often it can be a strength. I may be able to unite a galaxy for war, but your gifts are different. And I know, one day you will be greater even than I."_

 _She smiled at me, pleased by the compliment. My friend, my sister in the Force. But even before she spoke, I could see in her eyes she didn't really believe me._

 _"No one will ever be greater than you."_

* * *

"Come on, we have to go."

Onasi's voice was charged with urgency, and the wookiee's growls overlapped him. I blinked and stood, wavering on my feet. I felt weaker than I had since that first day on Taris. I clutched Onasi's arm to maintain my balance, my vision wobbling more than my motion could account for.

"What happened?" I asked weakly.

"He hit you with some kind of. . . energy attack. It looped up, like he was pulling something out of you, and when it connected to him you just passed out. I only shot him once before he took me out too." He nodded toward the wookiee. "We both owe him our lives. He took him on single-handed."

I glanced down. Sure enough, the bald man lay dead on the floor, and the wookiee growled confirmation.

"Great. I saved you, you've saved me, now we're even."

He growled back that life-debts didn't work that way. I shrugged, and winced at the same instant. Even that tiny motion sent my vision spinning.

"At least tell me he has a computer access card so we can get the codes," I grumbled.

Onasi's expression lightened. He still looked determined, but not as grim. "Nope, better. He was important enough to be authorized for uninterrupted departures. We found the launch codes in his personal datapad."

I sagged against him in relief. I wasn't afraid, not exactly, but I was certainly done with fighting for at least several hours. Until tomorrow, if I could manage it.

"Then let's get out of here."

We limped out of the base, using the dead sith's keycard to unlock the door that had sealed us in. No one patrolled the halls, and the base seemed empty as we hurried back the way we'd come. I knew there were sith soldiers everywhere, but as long as we didn't poke our noses into any doors that weren't right on the way we should make it out alright.

I was most worried about the chance of someone noticing the receptionist missing and the sliced computer, getting suspicious, but the room was still empty as we crossed it to the lift.

I couldn't refrain my relief as we crossed the streets back to the apartment building. Some citizens gave us strange looks, but probably assumed I was drunk.

Well, I'd have assumed the same in their place. Whatever that sith baldy had done to me still ached through my chest and sent throbbing through my head whenever I moved too fast. Though I no longer sagged against Onasi, I certainly didn't mind his supporting arm around my waist either.

We had Bastila. We had the launch codes. Now all that remained was to talk to Canderous and get us all a ship off this dump of a planet.

I stumbled over the ground, despite it being perfectly flat, and would have fallen without Onasi there to hold me upright.

I desperately needed a proper night's sleep. Between stress over Bastila and the other troubles that had been constantly piling up on us, I'd not slept well since the space battle.

"No matter how much they were offering, I should never have agreed to work with the Republic. I was meant to be a smuggler, not a jedi-saving sith-fighting. . . what would that even be? A crusader? No, wrong word."

I was mumbling my thoughts aloud, I realized, and hastily closed my mouth. Onasi's face was tight with concern. He glanced warily at the passersby, but none of them seemed to have heard. At least I hoped they hadn't. I must be delirious, to risk our cover like that.

"I'm sorry, 'nasi," I mumbled, trying to stand on my own. "I don't know what happened to me, I feel drunk. But different. Empty. Like a neural disruptor on a jedi."

"How about you just stop talking until we get to the apartment?" Onasi asked, his voice pointed even through the overly friendly calm tone he was using. "You need some rest. . . dear."

I nodded agreement. Whatever this was, it required extra caution.

And, much as I hated to admit it, maybe it _would_ be a good idea to keep the wookiee around.

* * *

Canderous's face didn't change much when we walked into the cantina common room the following morning. He appeared neither surprised or impressed, but nodded greeting and waved us over.

"I figured you'd be back. Neither of us is getting off this planet until we work together. Now, I happen to know that the Sith military base had a break-in recently, and I'm sure that means you got the codes. So, what do you say? I can get is in Davik's base, we can grab the Ebon Hawk and be out of there before anyone else traces the attack back to you."

I couldn't resist the smile spreading across my face. An Exchange boss's personal starship? Sounded like a smuggler's dream come true.

"Oh, we're in," I said before anyone else could object. "If it would get us off this stupid planet we'd be willing to steal a garbage hauler."

"Hah. No need for that. The Ebon Hawk is the flagship of Davik's fleet, nothing faster on the planet. Here's my plan. You'll come with me and I'll introduce you as someone worth hiring. Davik will want to keep you at his manor while running your background checks, and we'll be out of there with the ship before he knows what we're really doing."

Bastila frowned. "It's too risky. We should find another way."

"Do you have a better plan?" Canderous asked her, his rough voice still only calm certainty. "Or are you just objecting because you didn't think of it?"

"No, I don't have another plan, but I'd rather not place my life in your hands," Bastila replied, her own tone matching his for firm calm.

Canderous gave the tiniest shrug. "I can say the same about you, but we both want to get off this rock. Which means working together."

"We could take the codes elsewhere," Bastila retorted. "I'm sure there are hundreds desperate enough to help us."

"And desperate enough to turn you in to the Sith. Don't think you haven't been noticed, Bastila Shan of the Jedi Order. If you don't leave here with me, I doubt you'll make it three blocks."

I held up a hand before Bastila could carry on the argument. "I said we were in, and I'm not backing out of a deal. Bastila, you're with me and Canderous. Onasi, watch over the kid and don't let the wookiee chase after me. Be ready. We'll pick you up at the end of the street outside the apartment building, I'll radio when we have the ship. And don't forget to bring T3, he could come in handy."

* * *

"Canderous, you brought someone with you? Most intriguing, for one who usually works alone."

Davik Kang was a rough-looking fellow in custom plate armor - painted a less than pleasant shade of purple. Beside him stood Calo Nord, a famous bounty hunter, and I began to worry about my decision to bring Bastila with me. Luckily, Calo's attention seemed all for Canderous.

"It's not like you to take on a partner," he said, his voice a dangerously quiet tone even in casual exchange of insults. "You're getting soft."

"Watch yourself, Calo. You may be the newest kath-hound in the pack, but you aren't top dog yet."

I found myself contemplating the way Canderous spoke, 'ahr-ent' instead of 'arnt'. Mandalorian accent? Or just a quirk of his?

Davik stepped in before the insults could escalate. "Enough, I can't have my two top men killing each other, that's not good business. I'm sure Canderous can explain why he's not working solo anymore."

"Special case," Canderous said. "I found someone you might want to recruit."

Davik looked me over a moment, then chuckled lightly. "Yes, the swoop racer. I heard about your performance on the track. . . and in the rather heated battle afterward."

I blushed, opened my mouth to protest, but he just glanced at Bastila behind me and gave a nod. "Anyone who manages to bring a Jedi to heel is someone worth my interest."

Oh. He thought I was keeping her as my 'prize'. He wasn't talking about my hiding and letting her do all the fighting. I managed a weak chuckle, sure that Bastila would start yelling at the wrong moment, but thankfully the topic moved smoothly to a tour of the manor.

Davik proudly showed off his _Ebon Hawk_ , the hanger, and the extensive security system protecting it, then showed us the slave quarters where we could rest and relax with snacks and massages. Sharing one cramped apartment with three other people and a wookiee had been uncomfortable enough on top of all the strain lately, so that sounded like a good idea to me. I assured Davik that we wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of their skill, and he escorted us back to the room he'd set aside for us.

"You don't have to stay with her, now she's in the system," Davik said carefully. "I know you have important affairs to be about, Canderous."

"I have my own interests in her as well," Canderous said, voice calm. "I'd like to keep an eye on her, and her Jedi pet, at least until the background check is cleared."

At that, I was surprised Bastila didn't pull out her lightsaber and start indiscriminately lashing out at anyone in sight, but she actually laughed. "You know you don't need to worry about me, Mandalorian. If you have work to do, by all means, go."

I shook my head at her and turned to Canderous. "You can stay as long as you want."

I knew why he wanted to stay. _We_ had the Sith launch codes, not him. And now we had access to Davik's estate, we didn't really need him any more. If we _were_ the type to double-cross him, we'd be able to grab the ship in the night and be gone without a trace. He really needed to stick close if he wanted to ensure our cooperation.

If he'd known me better, he wouldn't have worried so much. I'm a smuggler, and for us a reputation for honesty is hard-won and easily lost. It was enough we'd end up on the Exchange's bad side, I didn't want to upset Canderous as well.

Davik left, taking Calo with him, and leaving the three of us to our own devices. Which meant, of course, that we started slicing security doors and interrogating anyone we came across. There had to be _someone_ who knew the password to get into the hangar safely, other than Davik himself - I'd prefer to leave trying to interrogate an _Exchange boss_ as an absolute last resort.

No one in the area knew anything, unfortunately, and we were forced to foray farther into Davik's base. Once we left the guest wing the guards had standing orders to shoot intruders on sight. Before I knew it, Bastila had whipped out her lightsaber and flung it across the room, slicing through one guard before spinning straight back to her hand.

I was staring. I barely noticed Canderous take down the other guard, I was just staring at that double-ended glowing yellow magnificence that was a lightsaber. I normally disdained double-blade weapons, they're so clumsy to use without hurting yourself, and limited in where you can strike and parry. Having the blades separate makes more sense in every way.

But I knew more than ever before, after seeing it in action for the first time, that I _would_ find a way to get my own lightsaber, even if I had to settle for a two-blade hilt.

The room held a computer terminal, which we accessed only to find it securely locked down. Sith military bases might be able to get by with lax security, but there was no way an Exchange boss would be so careless.

"So, we need access codes to the hangar, _and_ a passcode to enter the computer system at all." I said with a frown. "Canderous, don't you have access? You're one of his top men, right?"

"I don't do computers, and I certainly don't work inside the manor. No, you'll have to find one of the bounty hunters who specializes in computer security here. I'm sure he has at least a few on hand at any time, just in case."

Canderous led the way through the halls, away from the guest wing and deeper into Davik's base. We reached the other set of rooms, where the mid-level hunters and minions would be housed, and cut our way through them until we found one with the computer access.

None of them had hangar permissions, of course. That would be expecting too much.

"I guess we just start searching every room until we stumble on the hangar codes which Davik surely leaves lying about lightly guarded?" I asked with a slight bite to my tone. We had been inordinately lucky up to now, but Canderous just shook his head at me.

"I know what I'm doing. That door at the end, it's the interrogation room. I happen to know that Davik's pilot displeased him last week, and he's being held in the interrogation room since then to soften him for when Davik has time to deal with him personally. He knows everything we could ask, and I'm sure by now he'll be desperate enough to trade the information for his freedom."

"Wouldn't Davik change the codes after something like that?" I asked. "That seems careless."

"Heh. You don't know Davik. As far as his plans go, the pilot will never leave that room again. We're just fortunate the Sith quarantine has him concerned with other affairs at present." Canderous raised his repeater into ready position as we reached the door. "Be ready," he warned.

The interrogation droids fired on us as soon as we were in sight, but they weren't great shots. Bastila charged them, deflecting bolts away with her blade as she moved, and within moments they were disabled. She switched off her lightsaber and clipped it back to her belt in a smooth motion.

Moments like this, I could feel the pull of destiny between us. Moments like this, I could understand her better than any time she opened her mouth. In the flow of battle, everything just fell into place.

I smiled at her, and she nodded toward Canderous. He stood beside a beam of light, constrained within a meter diameter and maybe ten feet high. Within, a man stood tense, his hand clutched in his head, whimpering with ragged breath.

"Ah, here it is," Canderous muttered, and the beam of light vanished. The man collapsed forward, and I caught him before he hit the ground. As soon as he could stand, he grabbed a nearby canteen and began gulping water, then turned to us.

"Thank you. You have no idea what it was like in that torture cage, I don't know how much longer I could have taken it without going mad."

"We're looking for the access codes to the Ebon Hawk," I told him. "Do you have them?"

He nodded eagerly. "Yes, with those codes you can steal it right out of the hanger. Ransom it back to Davik, sell it to the highest bidder, easy fortune right there."

Canderous passed him his datapad, and the man input the long string of random numbers and letters and characters with practiced speed.

"I'd better get out of here before Davik realizes I'm gone," the pilot said, glancing back over his shoulder with a shudder. He grabbed the rest of his possessions from the bench and sprinted down the hall and away.

I grinned at Canderous. "You're right, this was a good plan."

Then the room shook. Not like a ship or speeder flying a little too close to the windows. Not like a seismic event even. It shook like a meteor had hit nearby.

I stumbled into Bastila and we nearly fell, then another impact sounded in the distance, and more.

Davik Kang was under attack. And if it was someone daring enough to strike at an Exchange boss, it would be someone Davik couldn't just ignore. He'd be wanting to escape, and that meant we no longer had any time to waste. We had to reach the ship first, or it would be gone by the time we got there. Access codes or no, you couldn't steal a ship that had already left.

"Run," I ordered, and took off down the hall. No one argued, and together we raced for the hangar.


	8. Ebon Hawk

We charged into the hangar directly opposite Davik and Calo, while a massive bombardment from space carried on outside the open hangar entry, smashing buildings into rubble. The jagged city skyline was already thick with smoke.

Davik, at the far end of the hangar hurrying toward his ship, was ranting even before he noticed us. His voice carried over the noise, echoing across the room. "Curse those Sith, they're bombing the whole planet! I knew they'd turn on us sooner or later. If we don't get to our ships—"

He stopped short, staring our direction. "Well, well, what do we have here? Thieves in the hangar. You thought you could steal my ship for your escape and leave me trapped here while the Sith turn the planet into dust?" Davik shook his head reprovingly. "That's never going to happen."

"I'll take care of it, Davik," Calo said, the shorter man stepping forward with his paired blasters raised. "I've been looking forward to this for a long time."

Canderous stepped forward as well, glowering across the room. "You can try, but only one of us is walking out of here alive and it isn't going to be you."

"You're wrong," Calo said, and then the room erupted in blaster fire and smoke, accentuated by the rhythmic blasts from orbit shaking the building.

Davik, Bastila, and I all ran for the ship. Davik was closer, but Bastila was a Jedi. She reached him just short of the ramp, and he immediately switched on an energy shield and pulled out a heavy vibroblade. It shimmered along its length as well, shielded against lightsabers or blaster fire, and the blades met in a sizzling tangle.

I dodged the fight and ran up the ramp. "Hurry up!" I shouted to Canderous. "I'll get her warmed up, but Davik's right, this isn't the time to settle prolonged personal grudges. We have to get away before this building is hit!"

I slipped into the cockpit, quickly familiarizing myself with the controls. It wasn't quite the standard layout, but most of the added buttons were for the security system integration. A few even I didn't recognize, but that could be sorted out later. I flipped on the docking ramp cameras to watch the fight, settling the engines into a warmup cycle.

Bastila wasn't making much progress against Davik, his energy shielding protecting him from her saber. Calo and Canderous continued exchanging fire, but I didn't see either making noticeable progress against the other.

I made up my mind and slipped back outside. Davik's back was to me, and Calo wasn't paying attention. As a smuggler, you generally want to avoid a direct conflict, but if you have to fight this is exactly the position you wanted to be in. Unnoticed.

I waited in the shadows of the ship ramp until the opening presented itself, then smacked Davik over the head from behind with my vibroblade. His shield may have deflected the laserbeam blade of a lightsaber, but did nothing against being hit with a piece of sharp metal.

He went down. Bastila and I glanced at the ongoing firefight.

"I say we leave him," she said with a half smile.

I shook my head. "I honor my deals."

If the Sith really were attacking Taris, he'd die without us either way the fight goes. If we saved Canderous, he'd be in our debt, and I really wanted to keep his help.

Bastila nodded and we started toward Calo, who held up a hand dramatically. "You may have me outnumbered and outgunned, but if I'm going down I'll take all of you with me. This thermal detonator will blow us _all_ to bits."

I took a hasty step back, and the room fell still. None of us moved to attack, and Calo started to slowly back toward the ship.

Before he reached us, the room shook and the ceiling burst apart. I flung myself out of the way as beams and rubble rained down, then scrambled to my feet and dashed to the ship.

Bastila and Canderous weren't far behind me. I tapped the radio and told Onasi we were on our way, then piloted the ship carefully between skyscrapers toward the upper city apartment district.

The streets were chaos. People ran from their homes, swoop bikers rode off the edges of the platforms hoping the repulsors would be enough to cushion their landing. And through it all, steady and methodical, the sith bombs and lasers pounded down from orbit.

Wave after wave.

It was a nightmare. No one here would last long, with that attack. Their infrastructure would be crippled, and as a city-planet they would be unable to provide their own food. As soon as news got out that they'd been destroyed, their trade would cease entirely, no one willing to risk the run for no profits.

The planet was doomed. Everyone on it was doomed. Even any scoundrels or rich merchants who had their own ships would be shot down by the sith's auto cannons.

Everyone but us.

Onasi stood with the wookiee and twi'lek hacker girl, T3 beside them, on a nearly deserted section of street. I imagined they must have gotten odd looks as they stood waiting, as though unconcerned about the bombardment happening around them. I swooped down to a hasty landing, scraping the paint from a tilting skyscraper as I did. The platform lurched under the ship's weight, half its supporting structures blown away.

I held the ship at the most careful semi-hover I could manage, hoping to keep at least part of the weight off the unsteady platform, and every second I could swear I felt it starting to tip under us.

"They're aboard," Bastila reported from the co-pilot's seat beside me. I nodded relieved confirmation and took off, retracting the boarding ramp.

We were still in sight when the platform gave one final screech of protest and tilted crazily, hanging unevenly from the two remaining buildings it connected. I suppressed a shudder and focused my attention on weaving clear of the assault.

They really were attacking the whole planet. Sith warships were positioned evenly in a double ring around the entire circumference, firing in steady waves as they moved across the surface. I transmitted the launch codes, praying that they hadn't changed them upon discovering the Sith we'd killed at the military base.

We weren't targeted by the masterships. No one blasted us out of the sky.

They just sent squadrons of fighters to do it for them. Without their auto-targeting superguns, and while bombing the planet - _the whole planet!_ \- they must have considered one Exchange ship trying to escape small prey.

Onasi took the gun turret and cleared the sky, while Bastila typed in the coordinates for Dantooine. "There's a Jedi enclave there where we can find refuge," she explained. I nodded, too busy trying to dodge fighters and set up shots for Onasi to argue with her. Dantooine was a boring farm planet, not much use to someone like me, but I supposed I was still technically a Republic soldier, and returning Bastila safely to the Jedi had to be worthy of some kind of reward.

As soon as we were clear of the planet's gravity and without fighters or debris in the way, I engaged the course and hit us into hyperspace.

I leaned back in the chair as stars blazed past us, let out a long relieved breath. Two weeks ago, I was signing on for a republic mission because of the extra pay. Now I was on the run with a fugitive Jedi, an exchange hit-man, a wookiee _life-debt sworn_ to obey me, and a top of the line slicer droid.

Oh, and Onasi of course. And the hacker girl.

Not exactly the team I would have picked, given the choice, but a good assortment of skills between us.

I grinned, heartbeat still racing. Now that the danger was safely past, I could admit it had really been quite exciting. Dodging Sith wasn't exactly what I did for a living, but tight scrapes were common for smugglers. You weren't doing your job right if no one wanted you dead, and the fact that I still lived was testament to my piloting skills. The rest of the crew didn't seem to be taking it as casually as me, though.

Onasi was still on edge. The twi'lek wasn't around, probably scoping the ship out for anything worth stealing. I knew her type well. Bastila appeared calm enough, but a quiet tension suffused the ship. No one said anything much until we emerged from hyperspace, just short of our destination.

"Dantooine," Bastila said quietly, turning to stare out the window as we began our approach. "It feels like a lifetime since I last set foot on her surface, though in truth it's only been a few months. We should be safe from Malak here, at least for a time."

"Safe?!" Onasi burst out, his brow as tight as his voice. "You saw what Malak did to Taris, there can't be a building over two stories left standing! They just turned an entire planet into a pile of rubble."

"Even the Sith would think twice before attacking Dantooine. There is much strength here, many great Jedi masters. We will be safe enough for the moment."

They turned to me, and I shrugged. "Don't look at me to decide for you, I'm just dropping you off. Take the twi'lek kid with you, I don't need two hackers and T3 will be plenty for me."

That would be my team. Myself as the strategist and contactwoman, the wookiee for muscle - _I should probably ask him to remind me of his name at some point_ \- and T3 to keep the ship in order and do any of the myriad sneaky things that droids can do when people don't think to suspect them.

We could get rich, visit exotic locales, never beholden to any planet or alliance. Never spend weeks stuck on the same planet fighting gangsters in a quest to rescue an enslaved Jedi knight so she could save the galaxy from the sith. Never outrace a planet-destroying fleet of the evil dark lord. . .

Given the choice, smuggling suddenly seemed the tame option. And, if I was honest with myself, boring. Maybe, once I regained my strength I could— though I'd never make a proper soldier, I'm sure the Republic could use someone like me.

 _But I don't want to run weapons any more, for either side. And I certainly don't want to be a common soldier. I want. . ._

I glanced at Bastila. She didn't glow with power or destiny, she looked tired and concerned. The weight of the galaxy might as well be weighing on her young shoulders. Yet deep within her - within me - burned a sense of connection and fate that I couldn't turn away from. And a purple lightsaber in my hand was the smallest part of that future.

 _When did I stop taking that as a wish and start thinking of it as a fact?_ I wondered. _I wanted it, but now I'm certain it will come to pass._

And some part of that was a certainty that I had to stick with Bastila, at least for the moment.

I sighed heavily. "We'll stay on Dantooine for now," I said. "I still want my reward for saving you, remember. A lightsaber would do. Purple, if you can manage it."

Bastila frowned at me. "I can almost promise that will _not_ be included in your reward. But it is well you should stay here, we may yet have need of you. For now, I must speak with the Council. They need to be apprised of. . . recent events."

Something in the way she said it made me suspect she meant something that had happened after we rescued her on Taris, not the space battle in which the Endar Spire had been lost, but I couldn't think of anything specific that stood out as important enough.

I shrugged. "We'll be here when you're done, playing pazaak and checking out the local shops. I still have a footlocker of loot to sell."

The wookiee had faithfully carried the whole lot for me, bringing it aboard as we escaped the burning planet. I wouldn't have remembered it in the heat of the moment, but now I was glad he had. I really _should_ ask his name. Wait, the hacker had called him Z, right? That would be perfect. My smuggler codename was also a single letter. You really didn't need more, in the right circles.

We hadn't done more than sort it out into containers by type before Bastila returned. I glanced up as I felt her moving quickly toward us, and sure enough she came running across the courtyard.

"I've spoken briefly with the Council, and they desire an audience with you," she said quickly.

I glanced around, then furrowed my eyebrows at Bastila. "Me? Is this about my request?"

Bastila's face only shifted slightly, in a tiny frown. "No, I did not mention your. . . _request_ to the Council, this is concerning other matters. Much more important matters. We should go at once."

"An audience with the Jedi Council?" Onasi asked, striding toward us. "That's not normal, even for a Jedi, and she's not even. . . What's this all about?"

"I'm sorry, Carth, but I cannot tell you. I ask that you trust in the Force and the wisdom of the Council."

He didn't stop frowning, but nodded reluctantly. "I wouldn't want you to get in trouble with your Jedi masters on my account. Alright, we'll play it your way for now. But I don't want to be kept in the dark."

"They're expecting us," Bastila told me. "Follow me, I'll take you to the Council chambers."


	9. Dantooine: Part 1

Bastila jogged away from the _Ebon Hawk_ , across the courtyard and down into a tunnel under the hill, while I followed a few paces behind. As we crossed a smaller courtyard, though, a brown-haired woman stepped into my path with a slight frown.

"You, padawan. Why do you not wear the traditional robes of the Jedi? Do you mock the customs of our order?"

I tried to ignore her, but she stepped purposefully into my way so I couldn't go past. Bastila disappeared into another tunnel, seemingly unaware that I was being delayed.

"Are you a Jedi?" I demanded, matching her irate stance with my hand on my hip.

"I am Belaya, and I have come here to study the ways of the force. Many come here to learn from Master Zhar, but any in the Order should know this. You are clearly neglecting your studies, padawan."

"And _I_ am no padawan, only the hero who saved Bastila. And I am on my way to a meeting with the _Council_ , which you would know if you were important enough to be anything but a small-time irritation. Now back off."

Her frown deepened slightly, but her tone remained mild. "Bastila. I have heard of her. It is said she has already mastered the art of Battle Meditation, rare in one so young. Less rare is foolish pride in one's achievements." She tilted her head just a little as she said that, glancing at me to make her intention clear. "But you claim you are not a padawan? That is hard to believe, I can feel that the Force is very strong in you. If this is a jest, it is in poor taste. The Jedi Order should be above such."

"And you should be above stopping strangers to insult their choice of attire," I retorted. "I didn't come here to be scolded by one as ignorant as you."

"I. . . I suppose you did not. I apologize for the abruptness of my address, I may have been needlessly harsh. My master often says I must learn to control my emotions. I see that I do have much to learn. I wish you a pleasant stay here on Dantooine, and may the Force be with you."

I suppressed my irritation and hurried down the corridor Bastila had taken. It ended in an intersection of two corridors, but I saw Onasi stood off to one side by an open double doorway. "They're waiting for you inside," he said, gesturing into the large room. I thanked him and walked in to meet these Jedi Masters.

Somehow, I didn't feel impressed, awed, or honored by the summons. To be entirely honest, I was getting fed up with all the Jedi thinking they knew so much and that everyone should jump at their command. Bastila may be annoying at times, but at least she's more honest with her emotions.

I took a position within the circular room, facing the collected Jedi Masters, and Bastila, who stood off to one side. The first to address me was a pink-skinned twi'lek with a blue robe.

"So, you are the one who rescued Bastila. It is appropriate you are here. We have been discussing your rather... special case. I am Master Zhar. With me are Master Vrook," he gestured to a grumpy-looking human who scowled at me openly, "Master Vandar," a tiny creature with huge ears, whose species I couldn't place, "and of course the chronicler of our Academy, Master Dorak." This last was another human, dark-skinned and with a slight frown, though he appeared more openly curious than the others. "Padawan Bastila, I believe you are already familiar with."

"Yeah, we've met," I said, trying for humor. No one laughed, so I sighed and attempted to appear calm and wise. "So, what do you want from me?"

Master Zhar replied without hesitation. "Bastila tells us you are strong in the Force. We are considering you for Jedi training."

" _Strong_ in the Force?" I asked. Bastila had mentioned I was Force 'sensitive', but she hadn't said _strong_.

"Master Zhar speaks out of turn, perhaps," Vrook cut in. "We need absolute proof of your strong affinity for the Force before we could even consider training you as a Jedi."

"Proof?" Bastila demanded. "Surely as Masters of the Jedi you can sense the strength of the Force within her. And I have related to you the events on Taris."

"Perhaps it was luck," Vrook said. He _really_ seemed to have it out for me.

Master Zhar waved a hand. "We both know there is no such thing as luck. The Force moves through us all. We can all feel the strength within her, though wild and untamed. Now that it has begun to manifest itself, would it be prudent to ignore such strong ability? Could we do so safely?"

"Training to become a Jedi is long and difficult," Vrook said, "even with a young and open mind. Teaching a child is hard. How much more difficult would it be for an adult to learn the ways of the Jedi?"

"I can handle your _training_ , and my age has nothing to do with it!" I retorted without thinking. It took a moment to sink in that I'd just agreed to become a _Jedi_ , but the revelation wasn't anything new. I've always been a Jedi at heart, I realized, it had just taken this long for it to come to be.

 _Strong in the Force?_ _Perhaps that's the feeling that connects me to Bastila_. Though I felt no such affinity for any of these so-called Masters.

"Such pride, such arrogance." Vrook's expression never changed from his dissaproving glower. "This one is clearly on the path to the Dark Side already."

"As are many who have never received the proper training," Vandar replied. "Only through our guidance can we hope to bring those who have strayed back to the Light."

"Traditionally, the Jedi do not accept adults for training," put in the Chronicler. Master Dorak? "There have been rare exceptions, however, and you are a special case."

"I agree with Master Dorak." Vandar said. "Many of our own students are leaving to join the Sith, and we will need recruits to face the threat of Malak. With Revan dead—"

I flinched involuntarily. Whenever someone mentioned Revan, or any time I thought about the fallen Dark Lord, I felt a sudden flash of intense hatred, fury, and disgust. Just for a brief moment, then the emotions faded and allowed me to at least pretend calm.

"And are you certain that Revan is truly dead?" Master Vrook interrupted. "What if we should undertake to train this one and the Dark Lord should return?"

I began to think he was just grasping at any thread he could to argue about. Even I could see through that weak argument. The _Masters_ wouldn't be spending _all_ their time training _one_ student, no matter how exceptional I ended up being. And besides, Revan, returning? Bastila had seen him fall. _I_ had seen him fall, through her memories in dream.

"We should discuss the matter more fully in private," Master Vandar said, clearly not wanting us to see them squabbling like this. It wasn't exactly dignified. "This is a matter for the Council alone. Bastila, you and your friend must leave."

Bastila swept the most obsequious bow I could possibly have imagined, as though the Council were great lords and she a mere servant. Or slave, even. "As you wish, Masters, we will return to the Ebon Hawk and leave you to your deliberations."

I deliberately made no such courtesies.

* * *

The afternoon passed without word from them, and I began to worry they would refuse me. Like many subconscious decisions lately, I couldn't pinpoint a time when I'd decided that I wanted to become a Jedi, that I _would_ become a Jedi, but now that the reality might be snatched away I found it hard to stay focused.

If the traders on Dantooine had been less honest, I may have ended up shorted without noticing. The numbers checked out, however, and I ended the day with some much better equipment than when I began it. And Onasi seemed relieved to finally be rid of a good portion of the junk in the cargo bay.

Still. The constant worry in the back of my mind. Would Vrook be able to convince the Council to send me away? The other three seemed pleased by my potential, eager to bring me into their Order. Vrook, though, was a disagreeable old grumbler.

The more I thought about what he'd said, the more it irritated me. Bringing up _Revan_? What was that possibly supposed to accomplish? Or was he _comparing_ us? Was his 'dark lord returning' talk some sort of symbolic way of hinting that I could end up joining the Sith like Revan had?

As though I would be so foolish. I had seen all too clearly the way the Sith were treated by their masters. If _I_ were to take over the universe, there would be some serious changes. And bombing Taris? What was that stupid move about? Malak wasted resources and got everyone even more upset with him over an insignificant planet like that?

I realized I was pacing the ship, fists by my sides, and forced my thoughts away from what I would do when in charge of everything. Instead, I considered the vengeance I would wreak on Malak and Saul Kareth. They had hurt me, they hurt Bastila and Onasi, and they were a _nuisance_ to the universe. It would help _everyone_ to take them down, and I wasn't going to wait for them to destroy more planets.

I _would_ become a Jedi. If I had to sleep in the wild and spy on Bastila's lessons through our bond - _could I do that? If I were sleeping while she was awake, could I use it to spy through her?_ \- whatever it took, I would master this power I could feel constantly flowing through and around us all. I would bring it under my control, and I would destroy our enemies so Bastila and I could rise to our glorious destiny.

I needed power, and I needed it fast. The way they talked about it made me envision years of study and contemplation, which I could ill afford.

My temper was heated to a boiling point. I couldn't go on like this, I'd end up making a fool of myself and goodness knew I'd done that enough already lately. I crossed firmly to the nearest empty room, sat down in the center of the floor, and tried to bring my mind to calmness.

It was hard. Between Vrook's constant assault on my character and Malak with his overpowering fleets, I had far too much on my mind to slip easily into restfulness. Slowly, slowly, I relaxed into restful peace.

* * *

 _I paced before a door, massive and thick with power. The room in which we stood was ancient, worn carvings that had once been deep._

 _"The Dark Side is strong in this place," Malak said._

 _I glanced at him reprovingly for the interruption, then returned my attention to the door. I had nearly solved it._

 _"Is this wise?" Malak asked. "The ancient Jedi sealed this archway. If we pass through this door we can never go back. The Order will surely banish us."_

 _I waved a hand, moving the Force just so, and the door slid apart with a grinding shuddering that shook the hall. I strode forward, ignoring Malak's weakness and fear. He was my friend, my follower, but not my equal. He had agreed to accompany me, which was strength enough for the moment._

 _"Are the secrets of the Star Forge so valuable?" he asked without moving from where he stood, hesitating even now. "Can its power truly be worth the risk?"_

 _I continued forward, toward the triangular artifact that held the secrets to endless power. Reluctantly, Malak came to stand beside me as the Star Map opened itself and projected the path to my future destiny._

* * *

I jerked awake, stood as fast as I could, and ran out of the ship. It was morning; I must have drifted from meditation into true sleep. My legs felt unsteady, but that wasn't the cause of my alarm.

Onasi caught me as I stumbled on the departure ramp, steadied me on my feet. "Woah there. This morning's getting stranger by the minute. First Bastila runs out looking like she's seen a ghost, and now you?"

I stared at him a second, then sighed with relief. Of _course_. Bastila. Our connection.

My panicked breathing calmed. She'd had a nightmare after that fool Vrook brought up Revan, and now she had me all jumpy. I growled under my breath. Sometimes I wondered if events were just conspiring to drive me crazy.

"So, you saw Bastila. How was she?"

Onasi shrugged. "She looked pretty much like you, unsteady and nearly ill. Are you alright?"

"I had a rough night," I said hoarsely. I needed a drink. And some breakfast. And some _dinner_ , for that matter.

"Can't say I blame you," Onasi said. "I haven't exactly been sleeping well myself. And here I thought things would improve once we escaped Taris."

"Would you like to head to the cantina?" I asked, then glanced around. Come to think on it, I hadn't actually seen a cantina since we landed. "Or whatever passes for one around here?" I amended.

Onasi shifted uncomfortably. "Well, Bastila did say you should join her in the Council chambers when you woke up, and it is no doubt urgent. She didn't look in a mood to be kept waiting."

"Another time then," I told him. I rubbed at my forehead. I'd jumped up altogether too fast, and this headache would probably hang around the rest of the morning. No time for food either? _ugh_.

I walked to the council chamber, yawning and wishing I had slept in a proper bed. My clothing was rumpled and I hadn't bathed in far too long. Not the best impression, but neither would delaying an extra hour to eat and shower.

"Padawan Bastila has told us of a most unusual development," Vandar said without preamble. "She claims you and she have shared a dream, a vision of Malak and Revan in the ancient ruins here on Dantooine."

The mention of Revan's name flooded me with rage and I stood straighter, the flash of furious emotion burning away tiredness.

"These ruins have long been known to us," the chronicler said. Dorak. "But we believed them to be mere burial grounds until now. Perhaps there is more to them than we thought, if Revan and Malak found something there."

"I don't even want to _think_ about Bastila's nightmares," I said, irritation seeping through my calm facade, "Much less _discuss_ them."

"Bastila has shared this dream with the council in great detail," Vandar said, "and we believe it to be more. A true vision, given by the Force."

"I'll trust to your greater knowledge of such affairs, then." I said, but my heart was sinking. If Bastila's nightmare was truly some sort of vision, then the Force might be pushing her into a confrontation with Malak. She'd been there for Revan's defeat, why not his apprentice's too?

But I didn't have _time_. I had to be strong enough to help her, guide her. If she was just a padawan and I was just a smuggler, there was no _way_ we'd be able to take down Malak no matter how much help we had.

"You and Bastila share a powerful connection to the Force, and to each other." Dorak said. "Such connections are not unheard of, they often form between master and student, but rarely so quickly."

"Whatever dangers lie ahead, we cannot ignore the destiny that has brought you and Bastila to us, together," Vandar said.

"What do you mean? What exactly is this connection?" Maybe they would know. If her constant presence in my mind, in my dreams, was some part of the Force, they should be able to explain it to me properly.

"You and she are linked, your destinies intertwined," Vandar said. "Together you may be able to stop Darth Malak, and the Sith."

Ah. They didn't know much more than I did, then. But that could make it easier, especially if they jumped to the conclusion that our shared fate was to do the same things I'd wanted to all along. I began to smile, but Vrook cut my eagerness short.

"Do not let your head be filled with visions of glory and power. These thoughts lead to the Dark Side. The way of the Light is long and difficult, are you ready to learn?"

I could barely suppress the sarcasm that suffused my voice. "Yes, Master, of course I will try to follow the Light." Whatever _that_ meant.

"Good," Vandar said. "It is well that you understand the importance of this, and have the strength to follow it. Understand that there is little choice in the matter, for you or us. Across the galaxy our numbers thin as Malak and his Sith destroy us wherever we can be found. And many more Jedi have fallen, embraced darkness and joined Malak."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to fall, and I'm certainly never going to join Malak." I would rise in power and victory, and Malak would grovel at my feet before he died alone and defeated by my hand.

"If Malak is not stopped, the Republic will fall, and the Jedi will be hunted to extinction," Dorak replied. "The galaxy would be thrown into darkness and turmoil as never seen for a thousand generations."

"The council has decreed that you and Bastila should investigate the ruins you dreamed of, once the Council considers you ready." Vandar's tone left no space for argument.

"Perhaps there you can find some clue, some explanation of how Revan and Malak were corrupted. And, perhaps, discover a way to stop them.

"I don't know if I want to," I said. That dream had upset my balance, left me feeling out of sync with myself. My vision wavered, and I really wished I'd had time for breakfast.

"With such strong affinity for the Force come many responsibilities," Vandar lectured. "As well as great danger. You may wish to deny what you are, but the Council cannot ignore it."

"And neither will Darth Malak," Dorak put in. "Your strength, even if untrained, will be seen as a threat to him. Once he learns of you, he will send his Sith to hunt you down. Defeating them is the only way to defend yourself."

I very nearly laughed outright at that. "Oh, I _will_ learn your Jedi powers and I _will_ destroy Malak, that was never in question. I just don't like making decisions because of Bastila's nightmares."

"The Force flows through you like no student we've ever seen," Vrook said. I raised an eyebrow at the perceived compliment, until he continued. "But you are willful and headstrong, a dangerous combination.

"Before we send you to the ruins, you will be trained as a Jedi," Vandar said.

I nodded agreement. _That_ was a bargain I could accept.

"If you cannot learn to defeat the darkness with you, within us all," he warned, "you will be doomed to fall."

I nodded, but I had no intention of 'defeating the darkness within me'. Any darkness I may carry, I would wield it as a weapon to maximum effect.


	10. Dantooine: Part 2

_I stood on the bridge of my ship. The shields were down, I sensed the fool Jedi strike team closing toward my position. An officer tried to flee, I caught him with the Force and held him in the air as I slowly crushed the life from his body. I had no time for disloyalty._

 _The Jedi walked in, three of them. One, stronger than the others, drew my attention. She was young, naive. She could be turned, if I could find the right way._

 _The officer was dead, so I let him fall to the ground._

 _I felt Malak's hatred behind me, a burning flame of darkness. He didn't understand what I was doing, he didn't understand any of this. He was a useful weapon, a friend once, but I would have to destroy him soon._

 _"You cannot win, Revan," the Jedi girl said, pointing her yellow lightsaber toward me as though there were anyone else she could possibly have been referring to._

 _I closed my eyes, calm passion suffusing me as I prepared my force barriers to protect myself. Malak's foolish attack would never be enough to destroy me. My strength in the Force was greater than he could even imagine. I would barely be scratched by his fleet's betrayal._

 _But that Jedi girl. I felt her, across the room, her core of potential untapped by her Jedi training. Her power was unique, unlike anything I'd felt since losing my friend, my general, to Malachor's void. I couldn't let her die here like this. It would stretch my power to its limits, protecting both of us, but if there was a chance she could be preserved for my later use, it would be worth the risk._

 _The decision took only a moment, the action no time at all. Malak's barrage shook the ship, shattered the window, and hurled me forward into oblivion._

* * *

I woke, trembling and confused. This wasn't the first time Bastila had dreamed of herself as Revan, but it was the most detailed. Just like the first vision I'd had of her, after meeting her back on Taris, only the perspective was so different.

And something about it suffused me with a vast and nebulous sense of loss, as though Revan's death had left something huge and important unfinished, something that would now be lost forever.

I tried not to think about Bastila's nightmares, they made me distinctly uncomfortable. Instead, I redoubled my attention to training.

Thankfully punctuated only occasionally by bizarre dreams, the weeks after my acceptance as a student passed in a blur of activity. Intensive physical training, bringing me back up to my peak strength and beyond. Meditation and study, learning the teachings of the Order. Much of it felt like common sense, something you wouldn't have needed to codify so precisely, but there was also much that seemed so new and foreign that I wondered if Jedi were even rational.

Much of my training was completed in concert with Bastila, though I outstripped her very quickly. I chafed at the slowness of my progress, even while the masters praised that I was progressing at a rate hundreds of times faster than normal students. I had to learn their knowledge, gain their power, and I had to do it before Malak found us.

Bastila and I were fated to destroy him. That was no longer a question in my mind. If even the Council could sense it, then there was no purpose in trying to hide it. I reveled in the fact, the certainty of that truth. Malak would fall to my hand. But I was so weak, so new to this, I didn't have time. I had to learn faster, devote myself to my studies entirely.

Onasi, Canderous, and the rest were largely excluded by the simple fact that I spent every waking moment pursuing greater strength with the Force. Bastila seemed a mirror of my resolve, whether because of our bond or just to try to keep up with me as best she could. She still knew more techniques than I. Healing and strengthening seemed to be where her affinity lay, though as with Battle Meditation she could also weaken opponents' resolve or leave them cowering in fear if they were weak enough willed.

I favored the attack powers, despite vocal opposition from certain council members.

Physically, I would never be an equal to Malak or most Sith for that matter. I was below average in height and weight, and past the prime of my youth. A month or so of focused training could only accomplish so much, and since my ultimate goal was to smash Malak's smug, evil little _face_ in, the mastery of the Force seemed the best way to do so.

Master Vrook tried to convince me that my path should be that of a Guardian, claiming its aggressive and forceful attacks would suit my personality, but I wanted to master the Force. Every hour spent practicing combat forms would slow my progress in other areas, like learning to conjure lightning or crush the life from someone.

I _really_ wanted to figure out what that Sith governor had done to me on Taris. It was as though he'd drawn out my actual life energy to strengthen himself, and if I could learn _that_ I would truly be unstoppable. Unfortunately, the Jedi frowned on such techniques and had no teachers nor records - at least none I could access - of how it could be done.

It seemed there were some things I'd need to discover for myself.

One thing I learned quickly was that the general state of my emotions seemed to alter the flow of the Force around me. When I was focused, intent on victory, pressing my attack with strength and passion, my powers grew stronger and the Force swept through me in a glorious torrent of power. When I was calm, meditative, at peace with the world, I found it more difficult to bring the Force into the charge needed for lightning. I could build shields instantly, heal or strengthen with greater ease, but the peaceful flow of life and growth didn't suit my plans.

The Jedi discouraged my emotions, tried to still my passion, claiming every taunt or harsh word was a path closer to their nebulous threat of the 'Dark Side'. They shook their heads when I swept past, muttered about me as I strode by, and lectured me to my face more times than I care to count.

But I grew stronger, and they didn't dare try to stop me.

That's one nice thing about having a destiny. When your aggression and fury is entirely directed at their greatest enemy, people tend to let a lot slide by that they'd otherwise object to.

I built a lightsaber. It was easy, the pieces clicking together like a mechanical puzzle, but done with invisible power coursing through to hold the crystal in place. The fittings were made such that it couldn't be assembled with standard tools or methods, only through Force levitation would the construction be stable. Attempts by others would result in a weapon that did nothing, or occasionally exploded on activation if they were very skilled and determined to make it do _something_.

The crystal they gave me was green, a pretty enough colour, but the rumor of crystal caves on the plains made me itch to run out and find a purple alternative.

I know, I seem to be fixating on this silly dream of a purple lightsaber, but it was very important to me. Though the hilt felt _right_ in my hand, I always did a double-take and frowned at the green blade. It just wasn't _me_.

To be entirely honest, I almost wanted my off-hand saber to be red. If it weren't universally accepted as a sign of _Dark Side_ affinity, I'd have said as much. But they hadn't offered me a second blade yet, so I had to make due with an ancient vibrosword of great power for my off-hand. Fully upgraded for modern use, of course, anti-lightsaber field and improved vibration cell power and everything.

And so the weeks passed.

* * *

Finally, the council decided to send me on my final Trial. I was to put a stop to the corrupted Kath Hounds threatening the nearby settlement. The source of the darkness needed to be purified from a grove, a good distance from the enclave but local enough to be reasonable for a trainee like myself.

Onasi insisted on coming along, and since the Jedi Council hadn't forbidden it I brought him and Canderous with me. Though part of me missed Bastila's presence, in a way it was refreshing having some solid guys around instead of all the Jedi.

"It's been a while, huh?" I asked as we started out from the enclave. "What have you been up to?"

"Oh, you know. Sitting around in the ship wondering what you and Bastila are doing. Sitting around Dantooine wondering what you're hiding from me."

"Sitting around the Jedi, wondering if they're going to betray you," I added lightly, but he didn't laugh. I was starting to think he just plain didn't understand my sense of humor.

"This is serious. I don't want to fight with you, really. I just… I wish you'd _tell_ me what was happening. You're always rushing off to training, or meditating, or just plain ignoring me. Why? I get that you're being trained as a Jedi, but even that seems odd. And I swear I saw you _floating_ the other day, in your room, with half the contents of your footlocker drifting around you."

"I was practicing levitation so I can grab enemies and hold them in the air where they can't hurt anyone," I explained. "So, yes. I was levitating everything in sight. If I'd known you were there, you could have helped me practice."

He stared at me flatly.

"I'm _joking_ ," I explained. "I can't tell if you don't _have_ a sense of humor, or if it's just so different from mine that they may as well not exist."

"I think you're taking this all far too lightly," Onasi said, and fell silent.

We walked a minute in silence, then Canderous spoke up, his voice curiously eager. "So, Carth, you fought in the Mandalorian wars, right? We may have faced each other in battle, which engagements did you fight in?"

"I try not to think about my past battles," Onasi said brusquely. "The horror of war is something I'd rather not relive."

"The _horror_ of war?" Canderous said, shaking his head. "My people know only the glory of battle. I'm disappointed in you, Carth, I thought a warrior like you would understand."

"In case you hadn't noticed, you and Onasi are not much alike," I said.

"I'm not a warrior," Onasi said. "I'm a soldier. I don't fight for glory or prey on the weak, I fight to protect and defend the innocent - usually from warriors."

"Nice speech," Canderous said. "I bet you tell yourself that every night so you can sleep. But I don't have to make excuses for myself, I accept who and what I am. Nothing else matters, only victory."

"Oh?" Onasi said. "Then what happens when you _lose_ , you know, like when you faced _us_."

Canderous snorted. "You had us outnumbered five to one, more ships, more troops, more supplies, and the Jedi on your side. And we still made the Republic tremble to its core before we fell."

"Nice speech, I bet you tell yourself that every night so you can sleep," Onasi retorted, though his heart didn't seem to be in it. "I don't want to talk about this any more. The war is over, Canderous. And you lost."

We were walking down the outer courtyard as we spoke, but before I could think of what to say to defuse the tension, an angry-looking settler shook his fist at me.

"You! How can you Jedi claim to protect us when you just sit in your enclave, safe from the Mandalorians, watching while we suffer?"

"What _are_ you talking about?" I asked.

"Those Mandalorian brutes have killed my daughter!"

Canderous took a step forward. "You should have protected her better. And you call yourself her father."

"And what am I supposed to do against a dozen Mandalorians and Duros?" the man demanded. "Nothing. There was nothing I could do. They came to our land, demanded our livelihood. But Ilsa. . . my Ilsa said no."

"It's pretty dumb to say no to the faces of a dozen armed thugs," I said. "I would have let them take it, then followed them and stolen it back afterward."

The man let out a sob. "She was always impulsive. There was nothing I could do. Master Jedi, I ask you to destroy them for me, take revenge on behalf of my daughter."

"Sure, sounds like fun. I don't suppose there's a reward?" I ignored Onasi's frown.

The man leaned forward eagerly. "I will give you all I have, just please annihilate them from the face of this planet."

"You've got yourself a deal," I told him. "We'll kill any raiders we see, don't you worry."

"Thank you," he said emphatically. "I can't rest until I know they're all dead."

We crossed the bridge where the last few stragglers had set up, a rodian and a human woman, each by their speeder. I elected to ignore them, though I suspected the woman was trying to subtly catch my attention, and the rodian wasn't being subtle at all. They wanted something, but I had a tainted grove to cleanse, whatever that meant, and some revenge to wreak.

As we passed through a narrow section between two plateaus, a small herd of kath hounds came charging at us and I suddenly understood the council's directive.

Something heavy and dark flowed around the creatures, almost similar to the feeling the Sith governor had held. But where that power was controlled, comfortable, familiar, this power was barely restrained. It didn't flow through or around the creatures, just a thin shell centered on them that sparkled with rage and mindless aggression.

As though they were driven to kill, attack without care, without need. Not predators, not hunters. It was as though they were rabid.

I shuddered. If _that_ was the Dark Side, I was glad I held a comfortable middle ground. My aggression and emotion may be frowned on by the Jedi, but even I could sense the wrongness of these creatures.

Canderous and Carth opened fire as soon as the creatures came in sight, loping around toward us. I was upset enough to easily call up some electric charge to zap them, though my feeble lightning wasn't as much use against creatures as droids at present.

Three of the hounds charged me at once, and though two fell before they reached me, the last managed to bite my shoulder, though only shallowly, before I instinctively brought my lightsaber up to finish it off.

I wished Bastila were there, she could have healed it on the spot, but instead I could only slap a healing kit on it and hope for the best. It didn't slow my movements, just stung and ached.

We crossed through the twisting lower plains, coming to a spot where it finally narrowed out. A group of thugs, duros for the most part, led by a man in Mandalorian armor, stood threatening a frightened-looking man.

"No, please," the man was saying. "Take my wife and children instead, anything!"

"Ha-ha," the thug said, blasting the man in the chest. "Wife and children, huh? Good idea."

"You've killed your last, vile scum!" I shouted, brandishing my lightsaber and hitting him full in the armored chest with the last of my crackling power.

I realized as we closed to melee distance that I would really need to practice holding more of the Force in readiness at all times. Taking time to prepare and attune yourself was all well and good, in training and safety. In a combat situation like this, it would have been really handy if I could levitate the fellow, or even just shove him away at the right moment.

Or, of course, just _keep_ hitting him with lightning until he dropped. That would be my ideal, I supposed.

I fought him blade-to-blade and he kept up just fine for a minute or so while my companions took out his duros gunmen. Then they were able to focus on him, and from there the battle turned to a one-sided affair.

By the time we were done, his armor was in no shape to sell as scrap, much less worth carrying with us. But between them all, we got a blaster and some grenades, which would go into the storage hold with all my other loot when we returned to the ship.

"That's not quite a dozen," I said, frowning at the four bodies, "so there must be more out there. Unless the guy was exaggerating, which is possible."

"There will be more," Canderous confirmed. "When the Mandalorians scattered, some took up solo occupations like I did. Those who became looters and bandits would have tended toward groups. Much more intimidating that way."

We emerged from the dimness beneath the plateaus into a wide open field. More kath hounds waited, lying at ease or prowling about, all of them barking and charging us as soon as they noticed us.

I got better at holding the Force ready to zap with. Not a lot better, and not nearly quickly enough, but the constant practice seemed to be unlocking something within me, some deeper connection that the Council had sensed and that I hadn't been yet able to fully exploit.

We vanquished yet another group of kath hounds, and I was accumulating quite the collection of bites. I wished I had some multi-layer Jedi robes to absorb the creatures' teeth instead of my much-thinner outfit, the violent creatures didn't have the decency to aim for my armor.

By the time we reached a small settlement, I was getting annoyed at the lack of a tainted grove to purify. I wanted these kath hounds to be less aggressive as much as the settlers by this point. A welcome droid stood outside a sealed door, so I went over to talk to it.

"This is private property," it said. "By what authority do you trespass on this estate?"

I held up my lightsaber. "This weapon shows my authority," I said, trying to be clever.

"I am programmed not to respond to threats unless attacked directly."

"It wasn't a threat, I'm a _Jedi_... well, ish. I just need directions to the tainted grove. Do you know anything about it?"

"Even if you destroyed me, you would be denied entrance."

I was almost tempted to smash the useless thing on the spot, but saved the pent up emotion to fuel more lightning. If there was one thing I'd learned about this place, we would meet more kath hounds soon enough.


	11. Dantooine: Part 3

By the time we found the second group of Mandalorian raiders, I'd gotten frustrated enough that my lightning would conduct straight through the first target to hit anyone else behind as well.

I wondered, as we looted their packs for valuables, if I could direct the electricity to go everywhere around me at once, it felt like the sort of thing I should be able to do, eventually. I'd have to practice controlling it aside from just blasting out in front of me. Sometime. Right now, just being able to fry anything before me was feeling pretty good.

The Force still slipped away from me. Much as when I'd faced the Sith governor on Taris, I could feel it flowing through everyone else, and I could touch it and hold it to direct its power with concentration, but when it flowed through me it always felt. . . uneven. Disjointed, as though even the connection I was establishing wasn't whole. It was easier when I was with Bastila. Her strength and mine resonated together, making me feel more complete.

Speaking of resonance. . .

Something was different nearby. I stood and listened, felt with the Force, probing for the source. Ah, there. A hot, jagged core of power. It didn't feel the same as the corruption that drove the kath hounds mad, but it was like a reflection of it.

I felt like I should have been able to analyze it more clearly, but considering I'd only been in Jedi training a few weeks now, I guess my expectations may be unreasonable.

"I think it's over there," I said, pointing. "Follow me carefully, I don't know what it is."

Perhaps a Dark Side artifact. I could get all kinds of points with the Jedi destroying one of those.

We reached the area where I felt the strange Force energy, and to my disappointment it was just a Cathar lady kneeling in a ruin, her power uneven and spiked with fear and self-loathing.

I sighed, furrowed my brow as I thought. How would I go about 'purifying' a kid like that? She wasn't strong, though her potential for growth was moderate. She wasn't evil. She wasn't even worth my _effort_ , most likely. Though. . . the way her power flailed and echoed was far more interesting to me than any of the pure calm centers that the Jedi masters were. Though a few shades harsher and darker, her power felt more like Bastila, or like myself.

I would bring her back, and I would teach her myself if the Jedi refused to. Her core was weaker than mine, weaker than Bastila's, but the same familiar heat of emotion flowed through her as in Bastila.

Stronger, perhaps. Bastila tried very hard to be a good, boring, emotionless Jedi, and that weakened her at present, but I could feel the trueness of her underneath, what she would become once she learned to let go and trust herself rather than her teachers.

"I will be your doom!" the cathar shouted, drawing out a red lightsaber - red! I wondered where she'd found the crystal. If I couldn't have purple yet, at least maybe I could get something more interesting than green.

I realized she'd paralyzed Onasi and Canderous, and brought my own saber up in front of me defencively. "I will be your _master_ ," I retorted, blasting her with lightning.

She charged, and she was not bad with her blade. Better than me, by far. Even with both my saber and the Sanasiki vibroblade, I could barely fend her off. Finding openings, pauses long enough for me to concentrate on focusing the Force energy into lightning without dying, was a challenge.

I realized halfway through the fight that I was actually afraid. Without Bastila there at my side, I was vulnerable. Weak. Physical confrontation was not my strongest point.

Maybe I _should_ spend some time studying healing and shielding.

Or maybe I should spend some time learning how to make my lightning even more powerful. The best defence is an overpowering offense, and I had to learn as fast as I could.

I lashed out with furious electricity, and the cathar fell back. She stood, but didn't attack again, looking at me curiously.

"You are strong," she said at last. "Stronger than me, even in my darkness."

"What are you _doing_ here?" I asked.

"I am Juhani, and this is _my_ grove. This is the place of my dark power. This is the place you have invaded. When I embraced the Dark Side, this is where I sought solace. It is _MINE_!"

I frowned at her. "So you're corrupting kath hounds and living alone in an empty ruin?"

"Yes, my lovely kath hounds," she said, her voice softer. "Aren't they pretty? My loyal pets. They like the smell of my power, know me for their master."

"But don't you miss food and warm beds and teachers who can make you stronger?"

Her voice shifted again, harsher. "I need no teacher. I embraced true strength when I struck down my Master, Quatra. Power enough to _crush_ the life from someone such as you." She paused, then added quietly, "Or so I thought."

"And I laugh at your pathetic attempt," I said. "You can't grow stronger hiding away in a ruin!"

She sighed, staring at the ground. "What do you want? Why have you come to trouble me, you who are so much stronger than I?"

"The Council sent me to cleanse the taint from this grove. I guess that means you?"

"They sent you here to kill me? Then why, when you defeated me so easily, have you not finished your task? It should be apparent that I cannot be saved."

"I don't really want to kill you," I told her. "Besides, they said 'purify', which probably means convincing you to follow Lightness, or whatever they think is good."

"You don't want to kill me? I am pathetic. I sit here alone, thinking myself strong in my darkness. But you should see that I can't be turned. I thought they held me back from jealousy, but it was I who never was good enough even for their standards. I never have been."

"Well, acknowledging your ignorance is the first step to learning," I told her. "I never would have figured out on my own how to use lightning, and without knowing I didn't understand it I would never have learned better. They have a lot of interesting knowledge back at the academy, it would be a waste not to exploit that knowledge."

She frowned at me. "I. . . suppose I have much to learn. About being a Jedi, and about myself. I only wish the cost of my ignorance had not been so high. I wish my master had not suffered because of me."

"She knew the risks," I said, waving it off, but Juhani's eyes grew sharp.

"She knew me to be headstrong, yes, but she expected me to adhere to the light! Instead I betrayed her trust, fell to my own inner darkness. I hurt her, and I slew her. It is my failing alone. Now leave me to my pain."

She turned and stalked away into the ruin.

I had to bring her back, somehow. Killing her would be a huge waste, Jedi were hard enough to come by as it was.

What was the next part of their code? Emotion, peace. Ignorance, knowledge. Something, harmony. . . ugh. I wasn't cut out for that kind of deceptive belief system. I'd have to persuade her somehow though.

"It's not your fault, Juhani," I called over to her with as much confidence as I could. "This is probably just her way of making you grow up."

"I wish things could have been different," the cathar murmured. "If she were alive, there is so much I would tell her. Apologize for. I think, in my own way, I truly loved her. But how could the Council ever take me back? I struck down my master in anger, that is not something they can easily forgive."

"They'll take you back, I'm sure of it," I said. They were desperate enough in their war against Malak, and if they really wanted her _dead_ there were plenty of easier ways than sending me out to 'purify' her.

"I could convince them that I am truly repentant, that I am willing to forsake the Dark Side. Maybe, just maybe, they would accept me back. But no, it is hopeless. How could they, after what I have done?"

"They will always accept you back," I said.

She looked up, met my eyes, then nodded. "I thank you, Master Jedi. I will return and submit myself to the Council, accept their judgment. There will surely be greatness in your future. Again I thank you. I only wish there was some way to make it up to you." She ran off toward the enclave, and I watched her go with a warm satisfaction.

"I'm sure we can work something out," I said quietly to myself, and smiled.

* * *

The council was suitably impressed by my 'returning Juhani to the Light' and even Vrook seemed grudgingly pleased. They gave me the rank of 'Padawan', the lowest within the Order, but agreed that Bastila and I were strong enough to investigate the ruins we'd dreamed about back a month or so ago.

Now that the initial shock of the dream/vision had worn off, I was eager to find this Star Forge. Revan and Malak had sought its power, and conquered half the galaxy in record time. Well, Revan had. Malak had ridden his friend's coattails and then started breaking things the moment his master was out of the way.

I could hardly think of a worse person than Malak to leave in charge of the greatest power in the universe. I would rip the Star Forge's secrets from him before he died groveling at my feet.

I hardly paid attention to the fights with kath hounds any longer. My thoughts and emotions were powerful enough that lightning rose readily to my fingertips now. And Bastila ran at my side, so I feared nothing.

We reached the door, the only entry point in a low mound that appeared perfectly circular. It probably had once been above ground, but years and centuries had buried it until only the tops of the surrounding towers still showed.

I knew the door to be of like kind with that of our vision. A wave of my hand, the Force moved just so, and it slid open with a grinding shudder.

The interior was just as our dream had shown, corridors of dark stone, dusty from age, but still standing unbroken despite being buried by centuries of time's passage. Our softly echoing footfalls were the only sound.

We crossed a wide hallway, as though meant for much heavier traffic than the three of us, and passed through another door. Behind lay a spidery droid, standing over the body of that older Jedi who'd been wandering around outside the enclave.

"Shanji chien wato wano ma molira. Rualak ni na kien ko-koonk," the droid began, its voice deep and foreign. Some of the words felt familiar, but any meaning was obscured by the remainder. It sounded almost like huttese, but just completely different enough that understanding was impossible.

The droid fell silent, waiting for a reply.

"I don't understand," I said.

It honked, screeching short abrupt syllables, and that sounded nothing like any language I knew or had even heard of.

"Bastila, can you make any of this out?"

"I believe the droid is cycling through languages, seeking one that we understand. It can probably understand us, but may not be programmed with any language we'd know."

"I can reproduce any language spoken by slaves of the Builders," the droid said in an obscure Selkath variant. Its phraseology and pronunciation were archaic, but I could make it out clearly enough.

"I recognize this language," I said.

Bastila nodded. "I as well, but why would a droid on _Dantooine_ be speaking Ancient Selkath?"

"Communication was vital to ensure the slaves constructed this temple as the Builders desired. But you are not the slave species. Nor are you Builders. You are like those that came before."

"Revan and Malak," Bastila said, and I had to suppress an involuntary growl at the flash of angry emotion at Revan's name. Bastila glanced at me, hesitated, a slight frown, then continued. "They must have encountered this droid when they came here."

"So, what are you then?" I demanded of the droid. "Some kind of guardian?"

"I am the Overseer. I was responsible for ensuring discipline among the slaves while this monument to the power of the Star Forge was constructed, and after the slaves were executed I was reprogrammed to serve any Builders who came seeking knowledge of the Star Forge."

"What is the Star Forge?" I asked. I remembered Malak mentioning that in Bastila's nightmare - or vision, I suppose, since it turned out to be so completely accurate.

"The Star Forge is the apex of the Builders' infinite empire. A machine of invincible might and unstoppable conquest."

"But what does it do?"

"The Star Forge is the apex of the Builders' infinite empire. A machine of invincible might and unstoppable conquest."

"I don't believe this droid is programmed with the answers," Bastila said. "From the description it can provide, the Star Forge sounds like a weapon."

"Or a factory," I said. "The Sith have a huge fleet of alien design, right?"

Bastila nodded slowly. "You could be right. That would explain how they amassed so many ships so quickly, but I suspect the Star Forge to be more than that." She frowned at the droid, waiting. "It seems to respond to you, try asking it something else."

"So, who are these Builders you keep mentioning?" I asked.

"The Builders are the great masters of the galaxy, conquerors of all worlds, rulers of the infinite empire, and creators of the Star Forge."

"The Builders must be an extinct people group," Bastila said. "Though no species I know of matches the description, even in the academy archives. The Hutts ruled large areas in the time before the Republic, but they never built an empire."

"Perhaps the Sith?" I asked.

"I know nothing of these Sith, but they are not the Builders," the droid interrupted. "The Builders are the Builders, their empire is infinite and everlasting. Nothing can stand against their might and the power of the Star Forge."

"Have you seen any Builders recently? How long have you been here?"

"Since the completion of this temple, I have recorded ten circuits of this system's outermost planet around the sun. In that time, no Builder has come to seek knowledge of the Star Forge."

"But that would be over twenty thousand years!" Bastila exclaimed. "This droid claims to be nearly five thousand years older than the Republic itself, impossible!"

"Yeah, twenty thousand years would have buried these ruins much deeper," I said. "Unless some concerted effort was made to recover them, or Dantooine's weather is stranger than I know about."

"There is no mistake," the droid insisted. "My circuitry was created with the Star Forge itself, and is without fault. My calculations are infallible."

I shrugged. "Well, then. Tell us about the ones who came before us, who were not Builders but passed inside."

"They sought the knowledge of the Star Forge, its secrets which are locked behind this door. They proved themselves worthy and entered. Another came who failed to unlock the secrets."

"The droid must be talking about poor Nemo," Bastila said, glancing at the dead Jedi in the corner.

"How can I prove myself worthy?" I asked the droid.

"Enter the proving grounds to the west and to the east. Those who understand the will of the Builders can unlock their secrets there. Those who fail will be destroyed by the temple itself. More than that, I am not programmed to say."

"Revan and Malak unsealed that door, and now Malak is using the Star Forge to conquer the Republic. We have to know what they found out."

"Don't worry, Bastila," I said, taking a step toward the eastern door. "We will."


	12. Dantooine: Part 4

The 'proving grounds' for the mysterious artifact turned out to be dark halls, each with its own spidery droid, only these were programmed for battle. With lasers and flamethrowers, they would have been a solid match for anyone alone.

But there were three of us. Bastila charged in, I blasted the thing with lightning, Onasi fired into it steadily with ion blasters, and it went down.

Each room had a foreign data terminal, the hardest part was figuring out how to communicate with them, but the actual test questions were easy.

Guardian droids defeated and planet types classified, we returned to the central room. The last door opened, and we entered.

The ancient device, exactly the one I'd seen in Bastila's nightmare, creaked open and came alive, projecting a sphere of stars and planets above it. Four worlds were indicated by labels in foreign text, like a curved string across the galaxy.

"This must be what Revan and Malak found," Bastila said, and I winced. My reactions to Revan's mention had been growing more pronounced as time went on, and even though I knew he was dead and gone the hatred and _fury_ that flooded me at the name never abated. "This must be where their journey down the Dark Side began," Bastila continued, too distracted to notice my reaction.

I shook off the urge to snap; it wasn't _her_ I was angry at. "I don't get it, how is this supposed to tell us about the Star Forge? There's nothing on this map that isn't in my ship's navigation charts. In fact, this looks downright incomplete in comparison. Some Infinite Empire."

"Still, I think this map is the key to finding the Star Forge." Bastila leaned closer, pointing to the indicated worlds. "These planets. Tattooine, Manaan. . . Kashyyyk, and Korriban, a Sith world. Perhaps the map is incomplete intentionally, and we must find the pieces on each of those worlds in order to reach the Star Forge itself. I know that Revan visited Korriban at least once."

"That's quite a supposition," Onasi said. "What if you're wrong?"

"What if she's _right_?" I asked firmly. "We're not doing that great in this war, if you hadn't noticed. We need an edge, and finding their Star Forge would definitely give us that edge."

"We must inform the council of what we've found," Bastila said. We each recorded the data from the map into our datapads, so we wouldn't lose it whatever happened, and I resolved to upload it to T3 as soon as we returned to the ship.

Vandar seemed pleased to see us back in the Council chambers, inclining his head as we rushed in. "Ah, you have returned. Have you discovered what Revan and Malak sought in the ruins?"

"Yeah, an unfinished galactic navigation map. We've downloaded what little information was there, but there wasn't even an indication of where the Star Forge itself would be."

"We will search out the Archives," Dorak replied, "and see if there is any mention of this 'Star Forge'. Return to your ship, and we will call for you when we are done."

"Again," I mumbled, but we left the Council to themselves and headed back to the _Ebon Hawk_ to wait.

* * *

Bastila was bothered by something, which meant I was irritable and snappish. Before it got too unbearable, I decided to talk to her.

"Yes? How can I help?" she asked, all Jedi-calm on the surface.

"You look like something's bothering you."

"No, not bothering me, not exactly. I've just been thinking about what the Council said, about the bond between us. There is something, I cannot deny it. I have felt its effects as have you, but the nature of the bond and what it means for our mission remain in question."

"It means I have to be the one to do this," I said. "Not exactly what I had in mind for my life, but you know. When fate calls, don't slam the window."

"That is a very. . . unique turn of phrase. I can't help but think this is a better use of your time than any of your other. . . plans, but. . ."

"I know, you're afraid that when we find the Star Forge I'll just take it for myself to further my goals of ruling the universe. Don't worry about that. I want to fix everything, yes, but I have no intention of using _anything_ corrupted by the Dark Side to do it." I shuddered. "I'm ambitious, but not _evil_. Even I wouldn't go _that_ far."

"I'm relieved to hear it," Bastila said, but neither her face or her emotions seemed relieved at all. "But however necessary your presence is to the mission, I'm more than a little disturbed that such a bond is possible in the first place. I saw your service records when you were transferred, but I know very little about you besides that. May I ask a few questions?"

"Sure," I said, hesitantly. I still only remembered my life vaguely. Certain events stood out sharply, the Endar Spire, parts of Taris, but the rest was a foggy haze.

"Don't worry, these are simple questions, nothing too intrusive. Firstly, what was your occupation?"

"A smuggler," I said, resisting the urge to be sarcastic. This was _Bastila_. If I were going to be respectful to anyone, might as well start with her. Maybe I could break her childish streak by being a good example.

"Good," she said, as though this were a test question on an essay. My resolve to be honest and straightforward wavered. "Where were you born?"

"Deralia," I answered automatically. I couldn't remember anything about the planet, anything about living or growing up there, but you always know your home address. I could point out the hyperspace routes to it with my eyes closed.

"And how old are you?"

My control snapped. "Now _that_ I _know_ was on the service records. What are you up to?"

"To be honest, I was testing _how_ you answered my questions, to judge your reaction. You were honest, which is good, and didn't treat this as a joke."

"It wasn't supposed to be a joke, or a _trick_ ," I said, unable to force down my irritation. "I thought you actually wanted to get to know me, not just practice another Jedi manipulation."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, but I suppose it was inevitable. You've had a lot to absorb since we left Taris."

I opened my mouth to answer, then took a deep breath instead. I closed my eyes a moment, calmed my breathing, brought my awareness to stillness, and nodded. "I accept your apology, and offer my own. I didn't intend to snap at you, but I dislike being manipulated. There is something else you wanted?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"The scrunched up way your face looks, like a recently hatched Kinrath pup," I tried for casual lightness, but Bastila just regarded me flatly.

"Amusing imagery, but we both know the real reason is the connection between us. The bond allows us glimpses into each other's mind and emotions, and what I feel within you troubles me. A Jedi receives years of training to master their emotions and control their darker impulses. The fact that you are so strong and have had so little training worries me. It could have terrible consequences for you and everyone around you."

"I don't believe controlling emotion is needed," I said. "It depends on the style you choose. Your healing and shielding work best in calm, but my power isn't like that."

"Self-control is a maxim for _all_ Jedi, it is what gives us the strength to resist the Dark Side. Those who fall have universally shown flagrant disregard for control, and you already exhibit the sort of willful recklessness that worries me. Combined with your lack of compassion, it paints a terrifying portrait of your future. We must _all_ resist the Dark Side, it is everything we are fighting against! And this is doubly important for you, with your natural affinity for the Force! What hope do the rest of us have if you give in so easily to corruption?"

"Why are you so upset?" I demanded, her emotion sparking my own. She brought herself to calm, with difficulty, but I couldn't. Irritation stayed with me, her vacillation between childish outbursts and self-righteous attempts at Jedi 'wisdom' were hard to put up with.

 _She's Bastila_ , I reminded myself. _She's important to our future destiny. She will be stronger, she will be better. Give her time, don't try to push too hard, you don't want to break her. . ._

"I'm sorry," she said, interrupting my thoughts. "I did not intend to be so harsh with you. But I am concerned. For you, for the mission, and for myself as well. Our destinies are linked, so what you do will have consequences for me as well. Any reckless behavior on your part is likely to affect me as well."

I drew myself up indignantly. "I would _never_ do anything to hurt you. I know you're essential to my future, and I will do _anything_ to protect you."

Bastila seemed taken aback, as though she'd never considered that perspective. I suppose I've been so focused it was never exactly made clear, but she should know that I'm not going to recklessly or carelessly endanger us.

"You truly mean what you say," she said, her tone almost surprised, then she shifted back into boring 'master' mode. "For now, at least. It may become more difficult to hold to that in the days to come, and such promises usually prove impossible to keep for long. Your power could be a gift or a curse, and when you need guidance I'll do my best to help you stay on the path of the Light."

"I'm not going to endanger the mission either," I said curtly.

"Of course you won't. At least, not yet, but there will be challenges ahead that may make it otherwise. I only hope I have the wisdom to guide you through it." Bastila's tone was calm and reasonable, but I could feel the concern - concern! - in her through the bond. As though she genuinely worried that _I_ was going to fail.

"There's a big difference between what I do - teasing Belaya and killing murderous bandits - and Malak and his Sith. You all act like the 'dark side' is going to suddenly spring itself on me just because I follow my heart and don't let anyone stand in my way. These are _small and inconsequential_ things I'm doing, it's not an indication that I'm evil at heart! And I am _not_ going to be 'the dark lord returning' or whatever nonsense Vrook is trying to foist off on you all!"

Bastila looked pale, and I felt a little bad for yelling.

 _It still isn't her fault, she's been trained by these stupid masters for all her life. The fact that she has as much independence as she does is uncommon enough, I shouldn't be upset so easily that she's not stronger yet._

I started to open my mouth, but she spoke up before I could apologize.

"You know that's not what I meant," she said, her own voice starting to hold an edge despite her attempts at control. "But you should _not_ be so flippant about thoughtless cruelty and perpetuating violence. Have you never considered _why_ everyone says these things _lead_ to the dark side? The dark side or the light is not a thing you decide upon once and never worry about again. It is a path, trodden out with every action you take, no matter how great or small. And if you can fall to every small temptation, why are you so sure that you will be able to resist the greater?"

I sighed, but no longer felt any inclination to apologize. Why did she insist on misunderstanding me? "Because they're _different_ , Bastila! If Malak walked up to me and offered to share his power if I would join him, I'd spit in his face. No, better, I'd blast his face with lightning and follow it up with my saber. Don't you see? Joining Malak and his Dark Side are nothing at all like what I'm doing."

"That's the insidious danger of the dark side. Its path is so simple, so easy, and it often seems like the best way. There is a reason Jedi train for years to achieve balance and serenity, there is a reason we have a code."

"Peace is a lie, there is only. . ." I started automatically, then trailed off uncertainly. It had seemed right, but now I wasn't sure.

Bastila's breath drew in sharply, and she actually _backed away_ from me.

"I. . . don't know what that is," I said, trying to recall. The Code, but. . no, that was something dumb about ignorance and serenity. _Passion, strength, power, victory, freedom. . ._ That was right, wasn't it? It felt right to me, at least. I'd been gaining power and victory through strength and passion, and I certainly felt free now as I learned to control the Force.

But then, what was the Jedi's code? And what code was I following, if not theirs?

"I fear I cannot teach you properly," Bastila said, a hint of panic hiding behind her serene words. I never would have noticed it without our bond.

"You _can_ help me," I told her, holding her gaze firmly. "I told you, I won't fail and I won't endanger you or our mission. If you cannot help me, who will? You know our destiny, we must grow stronger and face Malak. And if we delay too much debating philosophy, think how many other worlds he may destroy."

She glanced away. "You're right, of course. I must not let my emotions get in the way of our mission. But I don't know if I dare allow myself to stay so close to you. This path you choose to walk is a danger to us both."

I hesitated, then asked, "Bastila, what was it that I said? It feels like something I learned as a child, perhaps a rhyme, but. . . why would you react so strongly, then?"

"It is the first line of the Sith code," she said, her voice tight. "Not something we teach here, especially to those not in full control of themselves. I myself would not have known it, except for my strength and the urgency of our mission on the Endar Spire. I was instructed in it so I would know how our enemies think."

That made me suddenly very concerned. If I was so strong in the Force, if I had memories of a _Sith Code_ buried from my childhood, then who was I really? I tried to think back, before I was a smuggler, but even that was vague. I knew I had a partner at one time, a lazy thug who had turned on me in the end. It was after that, without even enough money to repair my ship, that I'd signed on to the Endar Spire mission for the bonus.

But before - my youth, my parents, my childhood friends - nothing. I found myself remembering days spent in meditation, a childhood spent studying the Force, learning the Jedi's myriad techniques, gradually over agonizingly slow decades.

Bastila's childhood. Bastila's youth. That was all I could recollect.

Something was very wrong with me. And I wasn't sure I wanted to know who I was any longer. Maybe being Bastila would be safer.

Suddenly, everything from the past months snapped into sharp relief. Vrook's constant comments about Revan, my own fury at the name, Bastila's strange reactions to seemingly random things I did like joke about taking over the universe, my knowledge of the Sith Code, the strange resonance I felt whenever Bastila dreamed about Revan.

They weren't worried because of my strength, they were worried because of my _family_. There was only one explanation that fit.

I was Revan's daughter. And they all knew it.


	13. Dantooine: Part 5

_I stood in a group of young Jedi, Malak beside me. He was young, without the mask that I somehow knew he would one day wear, and he smiled eagerly as he waited for my words._

 _"We must act," I told those gathered before us. "You know it in your hearts, the way of the Jedi is to protect the weak, not to stand by in indecision while countless lives are lost. The Mandalorian threat will not leave us alone just because we pretend not to notice it! Come with us, I have a plan to drive them back and destroy them without letting them ravage any more worlds, but we must act swiftly before they gain more momentum."_

 _Many of the young knights looked away, some stood defiantly, and others slunk away as though not wanting to be seen associating with us._

 _She stayed, of course. My friend, who would become my greatest general. The connection between us was strong, stronger even than my bond with Malak, though I'd met her more recently._

 _And others stayed, some I knew, many I did not. More than I'd expected._

 _"You are right, Revan," said a young man, stepping hesitantly forward. "The Jedi cannot refuse to act in this crisis. If the masters. . . if the masters will not do what must be done, then. . ."_

 _"Then it falls to us," I finished, holding out a hand to him. "We will welcome any who is willing to fight for the freedom of the galaxy."_

* * *

"Padawan, you have done well in discovering the ancient Star Map hidden in the ruins." Vandar told us.

I still wasn't sure how to react to my epiphany during the conversation with Bastila, but though she seemed more aloof and withdrawn from me, she hadn't mentioned the incident with the Sith Code to anyone else. At least not yet. I would have to step carefully now that I understood the truth; no wonder they were all so hard on me. _Revan's daughter..._

"However," Vandar continued, "more must be done in the fight against Malak. Victory over the Sith will not come through martial might. The Jedi know this, and this council has a mission for you."

"I have consulted the archives in search of information on the nature of the Star Forge, but to no avail." Dorak frowned only slightly, as though irritated at his archives having failed.

"Still, the Council is in agreement," Vrook said, looking just as grumpy as ever. "The Star Forge must be found. Revan and Malak sought it when they began their tragic fall, it is clearly a powerful artifact of the Dark Side. Malak must not be allowed to continue using its power against the Republic."

"We believe that each planet indicated on the Star Map will have additional clues about the Star Forge and its location," Vandar said. "Go to each of these worlds, discover the truth of this puzzle, all the pieces that will lead you to the Star Forge."

They looked at me expectantly. I frowned. "What, me? Chase down map coordinates? I have to finish my training so I can destroy Malak, I don't have time for this. Send _him_ ," I added, pointing at Vrook Grouchface. "Or, better yet, send a team to each world at the same time. Then you can get me the coordinates faster."

"Ever brash, ever disrespectful!" Vrook glowered at me fiercely, gesturing with one hand in curt dismissal. "This is what we have pinned our hopes on?"

"Peace, Vrook," Vandar said, though he frowned at me slightly. "We have discussed this, and there is no other choice. Our numbers have dwindled, through defection to the Sith and losses in the fighting against them. This mission is important, but if we send full Jedi it would only bring the Sith attention faster and doom you to failure."

They were so desperate to be rid of me, they'd make up anything. Chasing star map coordinates that probably didn't exist any more, left behind by a long-vanished ancient people? Defeating Malak was the key to finding the Star Forge, not chasing ancient riddles.

"Good, others will slow me down," I said tersely, unable to fully mask my inward fury. If I had to be sent out on a ridiculous mission half-trained, at least I'd be able to do it _my_ way. I did _not_ want to tag along as an accessory to someone _else's_ mission.

If I _had_ to be involved, it would be in the lead.

"Secrecy will serve us best," Vandar said, "but we do not intend to send you alone in this. Bastila will accompany you, as the two of you share a powerful connection. A connection that may be the key to unraveling the mysteries uncovered by Revan."

I tensed at the mention of Revan, wanting to lash out with the sudden anger that nearly overwhelmed me, but managed not to visibly react. I had to get that rage under control. What had he _done_ to me that I hated him so much after so long? He must have left us, as there were no rumors of his family. Maybe my mother had hated him for it, and I'd just picked up on her emotions? Why couldn't I remember?

Vandar continued, apparently unaware of my inner turmoil. Good. "Also, Juhani has expressed interest in traveling with you, and this we will permit."

"Juhani nearly fell to the Dark Side," Vrook said. "Perhaps her presence will be a reminder of what must be avoided."

"Thanks, just what I needed." I said, but kept my tone at least mostly sincere. Having Juhani assigned to me directly was more than I'd hoped for. "I'm assuming I can keep the rest of my crew, but what about Onasi? Is he being reassigned?"

"Those who accompanied you on Taris will all be joining you, of course."

"Wait, no," I said quickly. "Not _all_ of them. Keep the twi'lek girl here, she's way too young to be involved in a mission this dangerous."

Even if we did find more Star Maps, there was little chance Malak would have left them unguarded. I would be facing his Sith sooner than I cared to, and I did _not_ want to have that useless hacker slowing me down.

"She said specifically that she would not be left behind," Dorak said with a gentle smile. "Something about Lena and a brother on Tatooine."

"Fine, if she has relatives on Tatooine, that'll be my first stop." The sooner I could get rid of her the better.

Vandar nodded, the matter settled. "You will not be able to conceal the fact that you are Jedi, nor should you, but the true purpose of your mission must not be revealed. Malak cannot learn what you are doing, for all our sakes."

"I will not fail," I told them, though I didn't really believe this would be anything but a wild monkey-lizard chase. Still, getting Bastila and Juhani on their own away from the rest of the Jedi, I might be able to get them to loosen up a bit, not be so stiff and bland.

"You may return here at any time, for rest, sanctuary, resupply, or what advice we can give you." Vandar said, and I nodded absently.

"You can leave whenever you wish, the sooner the better," Vrook said, and I turned to frown at him. "But first, a warning. The allure of the Dark Side is difficult to resist. I fear this quest to find the Star Forge may lead you down an all too familiar path."

I almost laughed. All too familiar indeed.

"The fate of the galaxy is in your hands, young Padawan. May the Force be with you," Vandar said, ending the meeting. I even decided to bow respectfully on the way out.

* * *

"I feel I must apologize for the way I acted toward you in the grove," Juhani said. "It was wrong of me."

I didn't like how centered and calm the cathar had been since we left Dantooine. It was as though her brief freedom had been enough to remove any desire for independence from her, and now she was content to be a perfect little Jedi drone.

"Try anything like that again and I'll not hesitate to kill you," I snapped, hoping to provoke a reaction, though I could barely recall anything she should apologize for. Attacking me? Probably that was the reason, but she had been under the control of the Dark Side, so it didn't really count.

Juhani bowed her head. "I know that you have good reason for your reaction, but that anger leads to the Dark Side. I know from experience, at the moment it feels right but it will only destroy you and everything you love. Please do not fall into the same trap that nearly ruined me."

"I'll never join the Dark Side!" I couldn't keep the incredulity from my tone, though I didn't try all that hard. "They are evil, and I am certainly strong enough to resist whatever they may do to try and convince me otherwise."

"I too, thought I was strong enough. But the Dark Side is devious, and can exploit the tiniest weaknesses. I hope that by helping you in this task I can redeem myself, in your eyes, and in my own."

I sighed. "It's alright, Juhani, I forgive you. You don't need to worry about seeking redemption, just do your best and be part of my team."

"I thank you for your kindness, it is more than I deserve. I suppose I am still a bit shaken. I have been thinking about myself, Quatra, my fall to the Dark Side. That anger that drove me to attack her, my foolish pride thinking I was great for corrupting kath hounds. And I can feel that anger still within me now."

"Anger is a weapon, not a weakness," I told her. It took only a thought to bring electricity crackling to my fingertips, and I smiled to her. "Wield your emotions against our enemies, do not suppress them. Do not fear yourself, accept everything you are. Anger is a part of you, smothering it would make you less than whole."

"And if that leads me to darkness? If I should fall again, and slaughter you while you slept?"

My smile only widened. Her voice held emotion now, a harsh edge, not the bland Jedi 'serenity' they all tried so hard to maintain. Juhani would be a real challenge. Bastila I had an unfair advantage with, though the fact that I was forced to share her nightmares made the arrangement less than comfortable.

"I see in your pride you do not think that is possible," Juhani continued bitterly. "Very well, keep your own counsel."

"I want you to be free, Juhani," I told her. "That cannot happen while you still reject part of who you are. I do not believe the Dark Side is what the Jedi say it is. It's just their way of saying 'don't be evil', and I know you are not evil. Throwing a tantrum and exerting your power over animals because they're the only thing weaker than you doesn't mean you are evil."

"If you think me so weak, then why waste your time?" she demanded. "I know you have important things to be doing, why do you try so hard to make me fall when I've only just regained my stability?"

"Because I can feel the strength within you, and your anger is part of that strength. I would not have you cripple yourself needlessly. If we are to defeat Malak and his Sith, we Jedi must be as strong as we can be."

"And if that strength leads us to the same darkness we fight against, what would you say then? That by finding the strength in darkness to destroy Malak, the darkness is justified?" Juhani shook her head. "I appreciate your heart, padawan, but you have much to learn of the nature of evil."

And there she was, back to bland Jedi teachings. Maybe I'm wasting my time. Maybe I should be looking for force-sensitives who never trained as Jedi. I can't be the only one out there.

I left Juhani alone for the moment, hoping she would at least consider what I'd said. It was clear the harder I pushed her now the more resistant she'd become. I just had to trust that she'd see reason eventually.


	14. Tatooine: Part 1

_I stood in a cave on Tatooine, blowing sands swirling around the entrance. I stepped toward the triangular Star Map device, holding back the furious beast with one hand directing the Force, inputting the activation sequence with the other._

 _Malak stood at my back, arms crossed, still not convinced of what I knew for truth._

 _The Star Forge would be everything I needed to win this war, this silent war that had yet to begin. The Republic wouldn't know what hit them. I would tear down their failing indolent society and build something beautiful and lasting in its place._

 _My power would stand unmatched. Together, my followers would build my empire. We would protect, command, and rule in strength. Threats such as the Mandalorians would never be allowed to pillage their way across the galaxy again._

 _And against the darkness waiting beyond the galaxy's edge, we would shine bright and pure and never waver. They would not find us easy prey._

 _The Star Map opened. . ._

* * *

"The Force has given us another vision," Bastila told me as I brought the ship in for a landing in the small docking area. "Did you see it? You must have. The Force is strong in us both."

"Yeah, I know," I said, maneuvering the _Ebon Hawk_ between two low structures and setting us down on the surface. "I get sucked into your dreams every time you have a nightmare about _Revan_."

Bastila frowned at me, then continued. "Tatooine is known for little but its blowing sands. I find it hard to believe there would be a Star Map here."

"It was in a cave, it looked like," I said.

"The device would need some sort of protection from dust and sand storms," Bastila said. "A cave or cavern would work well, though many are used as lairs for creatures."

I shut off the ship engines and started toward the conference room, then paused. Bastila felt. . . hesitant, poised on the edge of something.

"You wanted to say something else?" I asked.

"I wanted to speak with you about our mission, what lies ahead. The Force, or fate, seems to be pushing us toward a confrontation with the Dark Lord Malak."

"I know," I said, shrugging. "I wish we could be training instead of chasing down these maps ourselves, the Jedi could surely have sent _other_ padawans if they really were trying to hide from Malak. In fact, between you and I, we're probably _more_ powerful than your average Knight. We'll attract _greater_ attention." I shook my head. "Those masters just don't make sense to me."

"You must prepare yourself for when that day comes," Bastila said, undeterred. "When I first faced Revan it was the hardest thing I'd ever done."

"Yeah?" I fought down the unreasoning surge of anger, though irritation crept into my tone. "Didn't he save your life and then just collapse? You never even crossed blades with him."

Bastila flushed slightly. "There are disadvantages to speaking with one who sees into my dreams," she said quietly, then added more firmly, "You cannot treat _all_ my dreams as a source of true knowledge. Visions are different from distorted memory."

"Everyone says you killed Revan, but did you? I never saw what happened after Malak turned on him."

" _I_ did not, nor was it ever our intention to kill Revan. That was Malak's design, turning on his master, intending to eliminate us all. My Jedi strike team planned to capture Revan if we could. Remember that the dark lord was once a great hero. The Jedi do not believe in killing our prisoners. No one deserves execution, no matter what their crime. But Malak's attack only narrowly left time to escape before the ship exploded."

I found myself strangely irritated, not just the familiar flare of rage that accompanied Revan being mentioned, but a slow fury that had no perceivable source or focus. I couldn't remember something, and not remembering it was terrible, but remembering that I had once known it and that I could no longer seemed suddenly unbearable. As though the loss of Revan echoed some personal loss of my own, buried deep within my forgotten past.

 _Well, of course, if he's my father, then why wouldn't I feel upset talking to one who witnessed his death? Why shouldn't I feel anger at his trusted friend and student turning on him?_

But while that explanation _fit_ it didn't feel _right_. This was something else, and I couldn't remember enough to figure out what.

* * *

"T3, run a checkup on the ship while we're out, Z and Onasi can help you if you need lifting done. Juhani, Bastila, you're with me."

"You're not leaving me behind," the twi'lek hacker said firmly. "I'm going to find my brother."

"Sure, search all you like," I told her absently. The wookiee was trying to get my attention so I headed toward him.

"Something's wrong with the supplies," Z growled as I reached him. "I checked them twice, we're missing food that no one ate, I know we were stocked on Dantooine."

I glared at the twi'lek. "Hording for when you have to split and run? You know you don't have to hide that from us, you're free to take as much as you need and you're welcome to leave any time."

She glared back at me. "I'm _not_ planning to run, and I'm _not_ a thief!"

I sighed. "Then it sounds like we have another stowaway. I'll investigate when we get back, I don't have time for it right now. Just keep an eye out, have someone watch the supplies if you have a free moment."

As we neared the ship exit, I waved the others to go ahead without me. I had to talk with Canderous.

"Yeah? What do you want?" he asked, his gruffly accented voice actually a little distracting.

"I need you to keep an eye on things here. We may have a stowaway aboard, so detain anyone trying to leave. If any strangers try to come in, make sure you note exactly who they are and what they want. Keep them out if you can. I'm trusting you with this ship's security while I'm away, alright?"

"Not much of a challenge for a Mandalorian," he said. "Don't worry, no one will steal the Hawk on my watch."

"Good. That's all."

I rejoined my team at the exit, where Bastila was arguing with a man in an orange Czerka uniform.

"What's the holdup?" I asked.

"I'm sorry, captain," the man said, switching his attention to me. "I must insist that you pay the landing fee, or you will not be allowed access to Anchorhead, or this docking facility."

"Landing fee? How much is that?" I asked, but I knew full well we only had 47 credits remaining. Hardly enough for a fee of any sort. I'd spent nearly everything we'd earned outfitting us for the mission.

"100 credits. But don't worry, it's a registration that will cover any future landings as well. You don't have to pay it each time."

"Oh, how reassuring," I grumbled. "We can't afford that."

"I assure you, the fee is not negotiable. We have a thin profit margin on this world as it is."

"We'll be much more profitable to your stores if we have access to them," I told him firmly. "I haven't enough credits now, but you should know that we mean to do a substantial amount of business in Anchorhead, and if you allow us to pass now we'll be much more inclined to think favourably of your company. If I have to leave and go halfway across the galaxy just to earn enough to cover a 100 credit landing fee, Czerka will be on my blacklist for a long time."

He glanced at the three of us, our Jedi robes, and nodded slowly. "That makes sense, I suppose. Welcome to Tatooine." He made a notation on his datapad, and I strode past him toward the exit.

I saw a dock worker with a crate, heading toward the _Ebon Hawk_ , and turned to stare.

"Your delivery is right on schedule," said a voice from behind me. I turned to see another dock worker. "I'll just need your print here to verify you accept the shipment."

"What. . . shipment is that?"

He glanced at his datapad. "One crate of adult gizka, ready for breeding. I shouldn't be surprised if they don't wait for your permission, though." He laughed, then patted at his pockets. "Now, where did I put that print scanner?"

"Gizka, huh? And why in the world would I have ordered a crate of gizka?"

The dock worker snorted and shrugged. "We don't make personal judgments on customers, it's none of our business what you do with them. It said docking bay 30, so I brought it to docking bay 30. And I seem to have forgotten my scanner again. Ah, well, I'm not going to refuse you your shipment because of my error. The gizka are yours, and I'm sorry for the holdup."

The other dock worker came plodding by, noticeably _without_ the crate he'd been pushing.

I sighed. I'd _just_ told Canderous to stop anyone from getting onto the ship. And now we had a delivery of gizka aboard? Well, maybe I could sell them to someone else.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the second worker said, staring at the ground. "I tried to be careful with the delivery, but a Mandalorian attacked me! I'm afraid I dropped the crate, and it broke. Your gizka are loose, but it's not my fault, I swear!"

It was hard not to smile. Maybe Canderous was doing his job after all. If he'd managed to terrify this fellow so thoroughly, I should commend him.

Though, now I had _loose_ gizka on the ship.

I glowered at them both for good measure. "He works with me and I told him not to let strangers on my ship. You should have talked to me _before_ you tried to just waltz up the ramp. Don't you have any respect for private property? If you don't holocall ahead to schedule a delivery, are you really so surprised that my bodyguard would react violently to your attempt at forcing access?"

The worker frowned, looking ashamed.

"And you, incompetent," I continued, turning harshly on the other. "You realize that I'm not paying for a delivery that has been so thoroughly botched, and I probably won't ever order from your company again, right? Now get out of my way."

They backed away, then turned and left the docking bay with as much speed as a semblance of calm could give them.

I groaned, ran a hand through my hair. "What kind of weirdo orders _gizka_?" No one seemed inclined to answer. "Well, at least we have something to use for target practice now," I muttered. "Come on, we've wasted enough time here. Time to find that cave."

"And my brother," the twi'lek spoke up. "Don't forget Griff."

"Griff, right. Sure, him too."

* * *

Juhani seemed tense and wary in my presence, though she may have just been intimidated by Bastila. I suppose my conversation when we left Dantooine had done little to assuage her fear of the Dark Side, but then again we didn't really know each other.

This trip together might give us a chance to get better acquainted. Though, it might be hard for _others_ to get to know _me_ , with my past pretty much a blank. I'd just have to keep the attention away from myself, maybe then they wouldn't notice.

"So, Juhani, how did you come to be a Jedi?" I asked, hoping to start with something easy and non-emotional. I could always push her into opening up to her feelings once we were better acquainted, I'd probably moved too fast last time.

I shouldn't try to shatter her entire system of belief until we knew each other at least a little better.

"How I became a Jedi?" Juhani asked, surprised. "I'm sure you would not find it very interesting, are you sure you want to hear?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't have asked otherwise. I only joined the Order recently, as an adult. I'd like to hear another perspective."

I could feel Bastila being irritated, but ignored the sensation.

"Well, it goes back a number of years. On my homeworld we did not see Jedi very often."

"What is the Cathar homeworld like?" I asked, curious. I'd never visited it myself, and couldn't recall any rumors about it either. It must not be particularly consequential to the smuggler community.

"My homeworld was not Cathar, my parents had long fled from that place which is perhaps a story for another time. I grew up on a human hive-world, the hind end of space where Jedi rarely tread. We had heard of them, of course, everyone had. The champions of truth, heroes of the Republic. It was very easy as a child to be enthralled by their image."

"So, you met a Jedi, I take it?" I asked.

"Yes, I did, and they were everything my imagination had taken them to be. I was awed, and more than a bit enamored. From that moment on I knew that I would try to become a Jedi. To lift myself out of the rut I'd been living in, make a real difference as the Jedi did."

Juhani chuckled. "The foolish delusions of a child. But this child made it happen. As soon as I was able, I left and found my way to the Jedi. I was living my dream on Dantooine for many years before you arrived, though perhaps I was not entirely suited to it, or unready for the challenge. I should not have fallen, otherwise. But, thanks to you, I have been redeemed."

"And what about you, Bastila?" I asked, turning to her. "How did you come to join the Jedi?"

"I was found to be strong with the Force at a young age, given to the Jedi as a girl. I left my family, on Talravin, as most padawans do. They're still there, last I heard, though contact with them is discouraged so I haven't exactly kept in touch."

"You're not supposed to stay in touch with your family?" I asked. "That seems harsh."

"Relationships with families are fraught with powerful emotions. Jedi are to avoid such extremes. Hate, anger, even love can lead to folly."

"Well, that sounds idiotic. I'd never agree to that." I certainly had no interest in becoming a Jedi nun and burying my emotions. I was becoming more and more glad that I'd never been given to the Jedi as a child. I would have hated it. Perhaps Revan - fury, hatred flared at the thought of him - had been right to teach me the Sith code rather than that of the Jedi. Malak was out there taking it to extremes, but it certainly made more sense than refusing to allow any relationships that might cause strong emotion.

"The gift of the Force comes at a high cost," Bastila was saying. "Sacrifice of personal attachments is one of the prices a Jedi must be willing to pay. The alternative is to fall prey to the Dark Side."

"And what's so wrong with that?" I asked, without thinking.

"Please, don't say things like that. You refuse to understand, but the Dark Side is destruction and chaos, the opposite of everything that gives the universe order and purpose."

"You need to lighten up, there's no point going all preachy on me. I've told you before, I don't believe in the Dark Side as it's presented to us. There is a difference."

"You need to be more mindful of your responsibilities!" Bastila said harshly. "Have you any idea the danger a fallen Jedi represents? Not just to yourself, but to those around you?"

"And, what, I'm going to become evil if I allow myself to _love_? Are you even listening to yourself? That makes _no_ sense, and it sounds completely wrong. If anything love would make me stronger, I imagine."

"Emotional entanglements can be dangerous. They can lead to outbursts, uncontrolled emotion. A Jedi of all people must be above such things."

I smiled. "You're not convinced of it either. You're trying to persuade yourself."

"It can be a hard lesson to learn," Bastila admitted. "I was not on good terms with all my family, but I do recall missing my father terribly for many years. I was only a little girl when I left, but I still remember him fondly." Her voice went softer, nostalgia infusing her tone. "He was kind and gentle. Doted on me."

She sighed. "My mother was different. I was young, but old enough to resent the way she treated my father. She pushed him into treasure hunting, we spent all our time on ships running from one false lead to the next. She whittled away our entire fortune, and I hated her for it."

"So you never tried to get in touch with them again?"

"A child is too young to understand the sacrificed that must be made, so contact is discouraged. When I grew older, I saw the wisdom of this policy. A Jedi must do what is needed, personal desire notwithstanding. Love will only obscure and confuse the matter."

"Surely for a Jedi to love, it wouldn't be all that bad."

"Even a Jedi cannot always control matters of the heart, but we do our best to guard against it no matter the cost. Some sacrifices are harder than others." She hesitated just a moment, then shook her head. "Please, I don't want to argue about this right now."

"Just one question, then I'll stop for now. After leaving your father, you've never loved anyone?"

She looked at me for a long moment, and I began to think she wouldn't answer at all.

"No," she said softly, "No one."

But I could sense the quiet sadness behind her words. A longing for something more she hadn't quite completely buried, so faint she probably no longer even noticed it.

The Jedi hadn't managed to destroy her completely yet. She was still human. I just needed a way to prove it to her.


	15. Tatooine: Part 2

We reached the Czerka offices just as a disgruntled man was shouting at their representative lady. Something about corporations being evil, I didn't really pay attention.

"Do you know a worker named Griff?" the hacker demanded, running up to the woman immediately. "He should have been here a few months ago?"

"I don't think we've ever had a Griff, no Griff here, none I can think of," the Czerka woman said quickly, perhaps a little too quickly.

"We'll be out of your way faster if you tell us," I told her resignedly, doing my best 'I'm an important Jedi and will stand here patiently until you give in' impression.

She sighed. "Oh, that Griff. A bothersome twi'lek who rarely completed his job, lied on his time cards, and slept through his shifts?"

"Sounds like him," the hacker admitted. "So, you fired him then?"

The Czerka woman shook her head. "Would have been better for him if we had. He was one of a group of workers who got taken by the Sand People. No sign of any of them since. It's a real disaster, but they did all sign waivers that Czerka corporation was in no way liable for their untimely deaths."

"He's a prisoner, we have to save him," the hacker pleaded, grabbing my arm. "We'll go find him, right?"

"He's probably already dead," I said, shaking her off. "I brought you here to drop off with him, but it sounds like you're better off on your own anyway."

"Don't talk like that about my brother!" she protested. "He may be a slime but we can't just leave him with those monsters! You're a _Jedi_ , isn't it your job to save people?"

"If you intend on leaving Anchorhead, then I have a proposal that may benefit us both," the Czerka woman said. "You seem like a sturdy bunch, and we need help clearing out the sand people. They've become too much of a financial liability, kidnapping workers, destroying our equipment. Normally, we charge 200 credits for the privilege of leaving the town, but in your case I could make an exception if you agree to hunt the sand people for us. We'll also pay you the full bounty for each gaffi stick you can recover, and a larger sum for their chieftain's."

I glanced at the others, but knew we had little choice. We could use our force powers to leave the town, but that would be a spectacle that might attract Malak's notice too quickly for my liking. I still wanted a few more weeks of training, or at least practice with Bastila and Juhani, before we went to face our destiny.

Plus, we still only had 47 credits.

"Deal," I said.

She held out a datapad for me to sign. That done, she passed me a scancard with a miniature holoportrait of my face. "Here is your license; don't lose it. You won't be allowed in or out of Anchorhead without it."

"Pleasure doing business with you," I told her, nodding farewell.

"We're going to save Griff, right? Kill the sand people, bring him back safe?" the hacker asked insistently as we left the building.

Before I could answer, an alien voice inserted itself into our conversation.

"So, you're the ones Czerka found to do their dirty work." It was the disgruntled fellow who had been ranting at the Czerka representative before we arrived. "Don't believe a word they say. There is _always_ a peaceful solution, they're just lazy."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "And our arrangements are none of your business."

"The sand people are not mindless animals, they're intelligent. They can be reasoned with, if anyone bothers to try I know you could reach a peaceful arrangement. But no one can leave without Czerka's approval, and _they_ want the sand people dead."

"The sand people attacked first, from what I've heard. They've killed people."

"Yes, after Czerka started moving in heavy equipment wherever they pleased. It would have seemed like an invasion! There was no negotiation, no territory agreements."

I cut him off before he could babble longer. "I have important things to do, and I really don't care to try reasoning with those murderers."

"Then you are just like Czerka. Fine, I'll try doing something myself." He stalked away, clearly irritated, muttering to himself, "If I can find a proper translation droid. . ."

I was irritated too, but turned to the hacker. "Alright, now you're going back to the ship. The desert is no place for a kid, however skilled with computers, and I can't be worried about keeping you safe. We're going into a war zone. Tell Canderous and Onasi we'll be back within a few days. They're in charge until then. Understand?"

She glared at me. "I'm not a child. I don't need you protecting me, and I'm not going to be your messenger."

"Listen to me, brat," I said, my tone shifting from irritation closer to fury. Electricity sparked along my arm, though I hadn't consciously summoned it. "You are here only because I _brought_ you here. If you're going to be a problem, I will leave you behind. I can tell the guard at the gate you aren't with me and you'll never be allowed out of the city. I could leave you stranded alone in the desert. I could probably even get you arrested as a pickpocket. I am a _Jedi_ , they would believe anything I told them."

"You wouldn't really," she said, but looked a little scared. About time she learned some respect.

I kept my expression firm, implacable. "Now, I am telling you one last time. It is too dangerous out there for me to be worried about you. Deliver my message to the ship. We are going to destroy the sand people, and if your brother is still alive there we'll bring him back for you. But unless you want to part ways with us, which you are completely welcome to do, _you_ will be waiting at the _Ebon Hawk_ and will obey Canderous and Onasi's every instruction until I return. Understand?"

"Fine, if that's how you want to be." She crossed her arms and stomped away, back toward the hangar.

I let out a breath, then turned to find Juhani and Bastila both staring at me with concern. "What?" I asked, frowning.

"You should not let your emotions control you so easily," Bastila said.

"You just threatened a child," Juhani said. "You threatened to lie, or abandon her in the desert? Why?"

I snorted. "I never signed up to be her babysitter, and if she won't listen to orders then I don't have time to persuade her otherwise. End result, she's doing as I wanted and no one needed to be hurt."

"That does not make your actions right," Bastila said, frowning. "She is a friend and ally, and you should not treat her so poorly."

"I didn't ever ask for her to come along, and she is _certainly_ not a friend," I said. "If I could have left her on Dantooine, safe with the Jedi, I would have. _She_ insisted on coming to Tatooine, but if she's traveling on my ship she's doing so on _my_ terms. One way or another."

"Your problem is that you don't respect anyone," Bastila said. "Are you _trying_ to act like a defiant child?"

I snorted. "You're one to talk. And I am not defiant, I just don't let anyone else dictate my life." Though. . . I couldn't remember growing up. It was _possible_ , though extremely unlikely, that I had a mental disorder of some sort that could manifest itself in a sort of perpetual child-state, if I never held memories long enough. If I didn't need to worry about the past, I would never have reason for regret. The thought was strangely liberating, though I quickly dismissed the notion.

I saw them share a worried glance, but it no longer worried me. I could try my best to teach them freedom, but in the end they were responsible for their own lives. I couldn't force them to change, any more than they could change me.

I smiled. "Come on, we have sand people to destroy."

* * *

"Lord Malak was most displeased when he learned you had escaped Taris alive. He has promised a great reward to whoever destroys you."

I'd thought I was ready. I thought we all were. But the three Dark Jedi ambushed us in Anchorhead, and within seconds Juhani and I were frozen in helpless terror as their combined strength shattered our mental defences and left us unable to move.

I wish I could say I silently lent strength to Bastila, the only one of us strong enough to resist, but in truth I cowered in a depth of fear so absolute that I thought it would never release me.

I had never known terror so harsh and undiluted. A fear that made me weak, instead of lending me strength. A fear that made me want to give up and die instead of fighting back.

And that made me even more afraid, but it also gave me anger.

Bastila held them off on her own, finally distracting them long enough for us to reassert our own wills. It was a struggle, one that felt like far longer than what couldn't have been more than a minute.

The moment my fury overrode the terror, I lashed out with a steady blast of lightning.

Bastila's saber cut down one opponent, and my lightning took the other two.

We stood for a moment, shaken, breathing hard.

"That was not what I expected to find around that corner," I said after catching my breath, the last remnants of terror fading from my mind. I knelt down to begin searching the bodies, and smiled. One of them had carried a short saber. It was red, a fairly generic colour, but that felt right. A good companion for my purple main-hand. Once I found a purple crystal, at least.

"This is mine," I declared, sheathing the Sanasiki vibroblade. I'd give that to Canderous, probably. He'd appreciate its history.

I hefted the hilt of my new saber in my off hand, appreciating its lightness and the feeling of power that vibrated through it. I felt like myself again, for the first time in as long as I could remember. The red blade hummed comfortingly, its sound harmonizing and resonating with my main-hand saber.

It was only when I found two focusing crystals among the dark Jedi's belongings that I realized I'd never actually taken the time to go find that crystal cave on Dantooine.

I almost turned around to go back then and there, but even with the addition of the money from Malak's minions, we had only 54 credits. Wouldn't want to end up stranded if the _Ebon Hawk_ ever ran low on power cells. Though, come to think on it, I could probably recharge them with the Force Lightning.

I grinned to myself. If ever I returned to smuggling, I would be sure to buy an all-electric ship. No more fuel costs for me, ever again.

"You realize there are sparks on your arms again?" Bastila said, frowning at me.

"Oh, are there?" I glanced down at the excited electricity flashing up and down my forearms. That made me even happier.

"I think there may be something wrong with you, padawan," Juhani said, sounding concerned.

I switched off my new red off-hand saber and clipped it to my belt, opposite my own _green_ one. Ugh, I had to find a better color crystal. Green and red clashed so badly.

 _As soon as we're done here. Invade the sand people, get the silly map coordinates, then head back to Dantooine and find those crystal caves._

"I'm concerned about you," Bastila said. "I've been watching you, to see what sort of progress you've made since your training with Master Zhar. And it seems that you are giving in to temptations and indulging your baser emotions far too regularly. I fear you are on the path leading to the Dark Side."

"You really won't let this go? How many times do I have to tell you, I don't accept this explanation of the 'dark' side, and I'm not going to become evil."

"The true problem here is that you still don't actually understand what the Dark Side really is. It takes the wisdom of a master to explain in its entirety, but I will do my best to teach you. You must know what exactly the Dark Side represents in its entirety. I've told you before that the path you follow is made of every action, every decision you make."

"Yes, and I really don't see why we must go over this _again_ ," I said irritably.

"Because the Dark Side grows stronger and more insidious the closer you come to it. It begs you to surrender, to unleash all its terrible destructive power. The more you touch it, the more you use it _only a little_ ," she glanced pointedly at the lightning playing around my hands, "the harder it becomes to resist. And once you stop resisting, it's too late. It will twist you up inside and turn you into a mockery of everything you once stood for."

"Well, since I'm actually _not_ a mockery of everything I stand for, it should be _plainly obvious_ that I am not, in fact, interested in joining the Dark Side! Though, perhaps they have fewer lectures."

"You aren't taking this seriously, even now," Bastila said, concern flooding the bond. She was actually, genuinely _afraid_ for me. Interesting. "The power of the Dark Side can be alluring. You need only look at the atrocities committed by those who once stood strong for the Light to understand the horrible corrupting evil of the Dark Side. Millions dead, destruction and pain left in their wake. What sort of person would you have to become to do such things gladly?"

"And I tell you, I will _never_ do such things, gladly or in the face of every torture the Dark Side can bring against me. You need not fear for my fate, our destiny is to _destroy_ Malak and his Sith."

"It is so easy to believe that of ourselves, isn't it? That we have unlimited vigilance, foresight, and strength of will. And yet the Sith have only become so powerful because of the Jedi who succumb to the allure of the Dark Side, who have turned away from all they knew in search of an easier path though it leads only to darkness. What greater weapon is there than to turn an enemy to your cause? To use their own strength and knowledge against them? They grow stronger while we are ever weakened, so we must harden our hearts and do whatever is needed to resist."

"Harden our hearts, more anti-love talk?" I sighed. "Do we really need to keep discussing this?"

"Very well, I know words alone cannot save you from the Dark Side. When the time comes, I only hope that we will be strong enough to do what we must."

 _Do what we must._ Bastila's resigned words echoed in my thoughts. If they had succeeded in their plan of capturing Revan, would they have used me to turn him to their cause?

It couldn't be a coincidence that just about the same time they were trying to capture him, I was approached with an almost too good to be true offer from the Republic. They wanted me where they could watch me, use me against my father. I was growing more certain of it every day. Is that what she meant, 'harden our hearts and do whatever is needed'?

I wouldn't allow it. I don't care if Revan was as pointlessly cruel as Malak, though I don't believe he was. The Jedi are far worse. Saying you don't believe in love and then exploiting family connections like that is beyond evil.

 _You may be jumping to conclusions. It could be a coincidence. You may not even be related to him._

But there were too many coincidences, too many convenient connections. I couldn't convince myself to believe otherwise. But I also couldn't bring myself to confront Bastila about it. Some part of me was hoping I was wrong, couldn't bear the chance that my suspicion would be confirmed. Some deep core within me instinctively cringed away from anything relating to Revan, battling the growing certainty that I had some intimate connection with the fallen Dark Lord.

The longer I spent with Bastila and Juhani, the more strongly I hoped I would be able to break them free of the Jedi. I found that I cared about them, both of them. And even when they spent every moment trying to lecture me about Dark Side nonsense, I could tell it was because they truly cared about me too, in their own misguided ways.

I would find a way to break the Jedi's hold over them. And if I had to 'harden my heart' against their protests, then so be it. I lived by following my instincts, and they were screaming at me that the Jedi Order was corrupt and self-indulgent and well beyond saving.

For Bastila and Juhani, though, there may still be hope.


	16. Tatooine: Part 3

"No one leaves Anchorhead without proper authorization," the gate guard declared, standing before some fairly dauntingly huge gates.

"I go where I want," I told him, staring him down. "Show proper respect."

"Look, lady, it's for your own good. Czerka corporation will not accept liability if sand people run you down."

I remembered a technique I'd read about back on Dantooine, and waved a hand slowly in front of his face. "You want to let us pass. It's our own risk."

He suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "I. . . I want to let you pass, I really do, but I can't. You can't imagine how sorry I am, but I have to scan your authorization here. I wish it were otherwise, I really want to let you past. I haven't got a choice."

I shrugged, grinning, and passed him my Czerka pass. "Thank you, you've been most helpful."

I waited until we were outside before laughing aloud. "Did you see that? It worked! First try, too."

"That was completely unnecessary," Bastila said, frowning. "You had authorization, why did you feel the need to tamper with the poor man's mind?"

"To see if I could? Come on, he was just trying to be helpful, it's not like I _hurt_ him in any way."

"You're hunters, right?" some woman asked. "Of course you are, or you wouldn't be out here. If you see Tanis, and I know you know him, tell him his wife Marlena says hello."

"I have no idea who you're talking about," I said. I waved a hand lazily in front of her. "You want to leave us alone and bother someone else."

This time, my focus was insufficient, and she didn't seem to notice the manipulation attempt.

"Don't play dumb," she said scathingly. "I know you're one of his playthings at the lodge. I know your type through and through."

I ignited my lightsabers. Marlena jumped back a step in surprise.

"I am _no one's_ plaything," I growled, "and I haven't even _heard_ of this Tanis." I waved my hand in front of her again, two fingers raised from my saber's hilt, bringing my full strength to bear. "You want to _leave us alone_ and go have a proper discussion with your husband." I lowered my hand, deactivating my sabers, and muttered, "If you're accusing random strangers of being his _playthings_ then you obviously have issues to work out."

She stared at me for a moment. "I want to leave you alone and have a proper discussion with my husband," she repeated, then ran out into the desert.

"Huh," I said, staring after her. "That's not the outcome I was expecting."

* * *

We traveled at a steady pace, roughly southward by my estimation. Small groups of sand people ambushed us on occasion, and we ran into a few small herds of desert wraid, but nothing delayed us long.

I decided to stop by a sandcrawler, seeing a group of workers there. Since the ambushes were all local, I didn't know exactly where in the desert the sand people enclave might be, and I didn't want to wander aimlessly for days in the burning sand. It would be a poor use of my time and energy.

Unfortunately, no sooner had we exchanged greetings before a dozen sand people warriors came charging in from all directions. Bastila, Juhani, and I sustained minor injuries fending them off, but Bastila's healing abilities were sufficient to keep us all in prime condition.

"Do you know where they come from?" I asked the miners' captain, once the attack was dealt with. "I've been hired by Czerka to take them out."

"Good luck to you, then. They're almost straight south of here, big ol compound, can't miss it. You'll have to be careful, though, they have turrets there and will blast anyone but their own people. No idea how you'll manage to sneak up on them in the open desert. You would be the first to succeed if you do make it, though."

"Thanks for the information," I told him, glancing at the sand people bodies scattered around the sand. Most were a bit lightsaber-slashed, but some of the robes would be usable.

"Good luck," the captain said. "We'll be heading back to Anchorhead now, be careful out there." The miners saluted or waved at us, then hurried about collecting their possessions for the trip back to town.

"Come on, time to get changed," I told my companions, gesturing to the sand people's ugly masks and robes. "We've got an enclave to infiltrate."

* * *

The disguises didn't hold up to close examination. We found that out the first time we got a bit too close to a patrol and they attacked us on the spot with growls and screeches. It sounded a bit like that ancient droid back on Dantooine, come to think of it. Why would an ancient droid speak Selkath _and_ Sand Person? Those Builders must have really gotten around.

We were careful to avoid getting too close to anyone as we headed farther south. Once we were past a series of rocky spires we were able to see the well-guarded base in the distance, just as the miners had told us.

They had a _lot_ of turrets. Even the three of us Jedi would probably have been overwhelmed if we'd tried to attack them head on.

"The Force must be with us, guiding us to those miners," I muttered. "Come on, let's earn our keep." I was eager to try out my new lightsaber. I had been using that overly-heavy vibroblade for too long, I wanted to get used to the proper weight of a saber hilt in my off-hand.

"You know, we _are_ here to find a _star map_ ," Bastila said. "Not slaughter natives. We've already got quite a few of their sticks, Czerka can't fault you for not trying."

"We made a deal, though," I said, staring at her incredulously. "Are you suggesting we do something to less than our full ability? That we act _dishonorably_?"

She blushed, just slightly. "No, that's not what I'm saying. I'm worried that you're overly focused on destruction. Once you heard that the Czerka representative wanted them dead, you didn't even hesitate to ask if there could be another way. You didn't stop anywhere, ask anything about how we could find the Star Map. You just seized on this one task, as though killing were more important to you now."

"We need Czerka's good will if we're going to find out any information from them," I explained patiently. "They have the surveys, they have the deep-desert information, and if anyone has found a cave like the one we saw, it will be Czerka. Therefore, finishing their task quickly and to the best of our ability _is_ the fastest way to find the Star Map."

Bastila bowed her head. "I am sorry, you're right. I shouldn't have doubted you."

"Good. Now that's settled, let's take care of this base."

We reached the front doors without incident, slipped in, and changed back into our proper robes in the gap between the outer and inner gates. I could walk well enough in the disguises, but I couldn't see well enough to fight properly. Our advantage of surprise would only last a moment, and we had to be in the best position to claim it fully.

On a quick two-count, we charged in and began the not so difficult task of clearing the place out.

I barely had to get involved, actually. Bastila and Juhani worked together beautifully by now, their Force powers and bladework a glorious complement to each other. I collected gaffi sticks and shot the occasional lightning blast in to help.

We located a chieftain, who conveniently had a map to somewhere in the desert, sections marked out that probably designated tribal boundary lines. We could probably sell it, or have Czerka interpret it for us. We also located a desperate blue twi'lek man, claiming to be a very important Czerka executive and promising a huge ransom if we saved him.

"Mission's worthless brother?" I guessed.

He perked up at this. "You know Mission? Is she alright? When I heard about Taris I was afraid of the worst."

"She's on Dantooine with us, safe and sound back at the hangar. You'll be back together in no time. Now run along."

The cell across the hall from him held a collection of jawas, who promised rewards from their leader back in town. I told them to run along as well.

The rest of the enclave was not terribly impressive, apart from the loot. Those sand people had quite a nice little collection tucked away in their various baskets. A good two hundred credits, in addition to sellable objects.

Their warriors were no match for us, and we left the enclave empty to be reclaimed by the sands.

The return to Anchorhead was not eventful. A few more sand people stragglers, raiders who attacked us on sight, another herd of wraid, no challenge to us.

The Czerka representative was most helpful once we showed her the evidence of our raid. The reward came close to two thousand credits, making us far richer than we'd been since leaving Dantooine. And she directed us to an underling who was able to point out on survey maps the area depicted in the chieftain's map, where rumors placed a significant cavern possibly inhabited by a Krayt dragon.

I glanced at Bastila, and she nodded. "The beast he was holding back could well have been a Krayt. We should investigate this immediately."

As we left the Czerka building, a woman stepped up to me, looking frazzled and desperate. "Please, you're a hunter, aren't you? You can go into the hunter's trading post?"

"I do have a hunting license," I replied, unsure what she wanted with me. "I wouldn't say I'm a hunter, though."

"Please, will you buy this wraid plate? It's the largest my husband ever found, it should be worth about four hundred credits, enough to get myself and my children off the planet."

"I'm not in the habit of charity work," I said. "I'll give you a hundred for it, final offer."

"I can't sell it that cheaply, we'd be left penniless when we reached home."

I shrugged. "Not my problem. There should be plenty of hunters around."

"Please! I'm begging you, no one else will help me."

I waved a hand in front of her face. "Either accept the offer or leave me alone. I'm very busy."

She hesitated for a long moment, then handed over the bone plate. "I accept your offer."

I gave her the hundred credits and stuffed the thing in my pack, ignoring Juhani and Bastila's silent disapproval. I'd find an appropriate buyer later.

* * *

Before we reached the gates to leave the town, a twi'lek woman stopped to stare at Bastila, then hurried over with a smile.

"Bastila, is that you? Helena's little girl? My, you've grown!"

"I. . . am Bastila, yes. I take it you know my mother?"

"Yes, of course, you wouldn't know me. I'm Malare, I worked with your father in his expedition days. Your mother showed me holos of you, such a pretty girl."

"Is there a point to this? We're really in a bit of a hurry." Bastila said, and I nodded agreement.

"Of course, I'm sorry. I'll get right to the point. I just wondered if your mother's condition had improved?"

"Her condition? I haven't seen her since I left for the Jedi Order, what condition? Is my father alright?"

The twi'lek put a hand to her mouth. "Oh, my. I'm so sorry, I didn't realize. . . she was very ill. Last I heard, she was searching everywhere for you. Your father, she didn't mention."

"I see. Where did you meet her, do you remember?"

"Oh, here in Anchorhead, dear, at the cantina. It was a few months back, I've only just returned and I thought you might have more recent news. You should really check on her, she was quite ill."

"No, I didn't know she was here. Thank you."

Malare smiled and departed with a little wave.

Bastila stared after her a moment, then sighed. "I suppose I ought to see how she is, though part of me would rather not." Bastila turned to me. "Only if it doesn't interfere with the mission, of course."

"It's on our way," I told her. Though her expression was calm, I could sense the anger, sadness, and even fear that trembled within her. "No problem at all."

* * *

"Yes? I'm sorry, do I know you?" Helena wasn't a pretty woman, by any stretch of the imagination. Her face too furrowed, irritation and impatience stamped upon it indelibly. She wasn't softspoken, and she wasn't quiet.

I understood Bastila's dislike of her as soon as she opened her mouth. As well as where Bastila got her own short temper and childish attitude.

"It's me mother, or don't you recognize me?"

"Well, what do you expect, when I haven't had so much as a picture from you since you left. Do you know how long I've been trying to find you?"

Bastila held back irritation, but I sensed it growing with every word her mother spoke. I couldn't deny my own annoyance with the woman either.

"You knew perfectly well communication would be impossible once I joined the order," Bastila said. "Now what's this about? And where's father?"

"You haven't heard, then. I should have known. Your father is dead, that's part of the reason I was trying to find you."

"What did you do to him?" Bastila demanded.

"Isn't that lovely?" Helena asked, turning her gaze toward me. "Barely reunited and she already starts flinging insults. Tell me, do you treat _your_ mother this way?"

I shrugged. As I had neither memory or knowledge of my mother, it was something of a moot point. "Only if she deserved it," I said cuttingly.

"Well, I see Bastila has made friends as selfish and rude as she is."

Juhani raised her chin in defiance, but wisely held silent.

Helena didn't seem to even notice her, returning her attention to her daughter. " _This_ is how you treat a dying woman?"

"You keep saying you're sick, are you truly dying? Or is that just you being melodramatic?"

"Such _sweet_ things you say." Helena sighed, her expression softening into genuine emotion for just a moment. "Perhaps I'd best just tell you everything right off, before we start arguing again."

"You can start," Bastila said firmly, "by telling me what you got father into that ended with him dead."

Any softness in Helena's expression vanished so completely I might have been only imagining it. "Oh, you want me to say I pushed him into coming here on an expedition, that I'm to blame for his death? I hadn't realized Jedi were so spiteful. You never accepted that he _loved_ going on those foolish treasure hunts, no, I'm always to blame for everything. I see that hasn't changed."

Helena barely paused for breath before continuing. "So, yes. I brought him here to hunt for Krayt Dragon pearls, he took an expedition into the desert, and his prey proved the stronger. His team was attacked, only a single guide survived to return news to me."

"So, what do you need me for?" Bastila asked. "Credits to get you off planet?"

Helena snorted. "Don't be insulting. I want you to use your Jedi senses, find him and bring back his holocron."

"Why?" Bastila snapped. "So you can sell it?"

I tried to radiate calm through the bond, Bastila was getting far more agitated than was normal even for her. Unfortunately, Helena was getting on my nerves as well, so the attempt was doomed to failure.

"Is it too much to ask that I have something to remember your father by?" Helena demanded. "Of course it is. You couldn't be bothered."

"We _are_ on an important mission from the Jedi Council, ask my companions if you doubt me."

"Don't you want to find him?" I asked. From what she'd told me, she cared about her father more than anyone else in the universe. To suddenly find out he was dead must be shattering.

"And what are the chances of that?" Bastila asked, her voice thick with emotion. I sensed her resignation, her feeling of complete loss. "Krayt dragons can easily consume a man, there would be nothing left. It's an impossible task, finding him or his holocron. An ignoble end, for a good man."

"And your mother's sickness?" I asked hesitantly. However she felt about her mother, she was her only remaining family. To just ignore her dying seemed harsh.

"It seems unrelated to her request. Are you actually ill, mother?"

"And would it matter one bit to you if I am? Just find me your father's holocron and you needn't worry yourself about the rest."

"You can't just find it yourself?" I asked.

"As my daughter is quick to point out, I have no way to finance another expedition, and I'm not the explorer my husband was."

"If we have the time, we'll see what we can find," Bastila said. "I promise no more than that."

"I believe your father was heading north, so you might check along that route. Do hurry, dear."


	17. Tatooine: Part 4

On our way out of town again, the leader of the jawas came running up to me. He babbled something about giants, and I think he was thanking us for rescuing his people, but he talked so fast I could barely keep up. My thoughts were not focused on him nearly enough to fully interpret.

But, he gave me a good handful of credits, so I wasn't going to complain. He didn't seem to want anything else, so I accepted his thanks and we went our separate ways.

Once out on the dunes, Bastila frowned. "The _town_ is to the north, and there's no sign of any caves. I don't think my mother knew what she was talking about."

"We're more likely to encounter a Krayt dragon continuing to follow this map," I said, pointing toward a collection of stone outcroppings that marked the first landmark of our navigation to the caves. "If it turns out not to be there, we can decide what to do then."

Bastila nodded gratefully. "You're right. There's a more than good chance that everything will work out. The Force has been guiding us unusually strongly."

"Well, we are destined to destroy Malak, so I guess the Force decided we could use a bit of help. The sooner we finish this silly runaround looking for map coordinates, the sooner we can get back to training to take down the Dark Lord and his Sith."

"We are already much stronger than when we left Dantooine," Juhani put in. "You can learn from the daily struggle for survival as much as from books and teachers."

"Do not underestimate the value of proper oversight," Bastila said firmly. "And for us especially, a Master's wisdom would be welcome. We are too young, too new to the ways of the Force and resisting the Dark Side, to be safe on our own for long."

"Well, you can stop and chat with the Masters all you like when we head back to Dantooine," I told her. "I intend to search for those crystal caves I've heard rumors of, and there will be plenty of time for you to meditate and recenter yourselves. A few days of study and focus will do us all good."

We continued past the first landmark, navigated a herd of dewbacks, finished off a few more sand people raiding parties, and finally reached a wide stretch of open desert in front of a large cave. The entrance was barely infringed on by sand, the opening wide and the sand in front heavily trodden and scuffed.

A pair of hunters stood arguing outside, then one flung up his hands in resignation while the other shouldered his blaster rifle and stalked toward the cave entrance.

A huge maw darted out, snatched the attacking hunter before he could fire, and with a quick jerking toss smashed him into the cave's ceiling. He fell and lay still, as the creature lay down beside him and casually nibbled at him as though curious.

"I believe that is a krayt dragon," Juhani said after a moment. "We have found its lair."

"That beast killed my father," Bastila said, with a surge of absolute certainty. "His holocron will be in there, I can feel it."

"And I can sense the Star Map," I said, closing my eyes. The presence of the ancient device was clear, even from this distance. A cool humming of heavy, crackling power. Controlled. Assured. Comfortable. It felt like a presence I was remembering, rather than discovering for the first time. Even more so than on Dantooine; there its power had been muted by the overwhelming presence of the Jedi Order, its aura's bright sharp edges dulled.

Here, it flared wild and free and _beautiful_ , an aura of energy that I suddenly understood had drawn the krayt dragon to it.

"A masterpiece," I said quietly, in awe. "Formed with the Force woven through it, so it could withstand millenia. The Builders knew what they were doing."

"The _Dark Side_ of the Force," Bastila said, watching me closely. "This is an artifact for evil."

I shook my head. "No. You must be reading it wrong. The Dark Side is chaos, you've told me, and I felt it with Juhani's corrupted kath hounds. This is power, shaped and controlled, formed with purpose and stability beyond anything our current understanding of the Force would allow. Even our holocrons don't have this kind of strength."

"But I can feel the taint of it, the Dark Side—"

"No, Bastila. You are wrong. Look within yourself, do you not see the difference? Because something is not inherently Light does not make it Dark. The Krayt dragon, it is not evil. In is a predator, who hunts and rules its sands. It has killed many, your father among them, but that doesn't make it a creature of darkness. Do you understand?"

Bastila frowned at me. "You are confused, you never completed your proper training. I know the Dark Side when I feel it, and that cave is full of darkness."

"You just lost your father," I said as gently as I could. "Is it not possible that you are not in control of your emotions? That the darkness you attribute to the cave is not merely your own rage at being helpless to save him? At losing him without ever speaking to him again?"

Bastila stilled. She clasped her hands, closed her eyes. I could feel her dragging her emotions back under control, tucking away the fear and anger and hatred that had been quietly lurking in her heart. She sighed, slowly, sadly.

"You may be right," she said at last. "I do sense darkness, but it is possible it is only a reflection of my own failings. I do not want to believe it to be so."

"Don't worry about it," I told her. "Though you shouldn't try so hard to push down your emotions. It won't help in the long run, it's better to use them to fuel your actions than to try and lock them away. They'll explode one day."

"And what do you know about it?" Juhani snapped. "You, who always wear your anger on your face, who lashes out at anything you dislike, who seeks to control everyone and every event? Would you have us become animals, without trying to act as we should, who live only by instinct?"

I snorted. "No, that's not what I'm saying. But you learn a lot about how people think as a smuggler, and the more you try to suppress what you're feeling the more dangerous it is for your mental health. That's all."

" _You_ are concerned about _my_ mental health?" Bastila said. "I find that somewhat alarming."

"Hey, I am completely sane," I said firmly. "Sure, I may have issues with my father, and can't even remember my mother or most of my life, but if there's one thing I'm sure about, it's that I know what I'm doing. Most of the time, at least."

"You are egocentric and foolish," Juhani said. "I do not judge, I understand because I have been there myself. I thought I knew everything I needed to, that I would never do wrong. And then I did, and I fell, and I nearly destroyed myself."

"And who was it who saved you?" I asked, grinning. "So you can't really say I _don't_ know what I'm doing, since I clearly do at least some of the time."

"This debate is pointless," Bastila said. "We all know you are arrogant and self-assured. There is no point in debating the matter. We have a krayt dragon to get past."

"We should talk to that hunter, then," I told her, pointing to the man who had not approached the cave. "He probably knows more about these creatures."

The hunter, one Komad Fortuna, did indeed know krayt dragons. He had already formed a plan to lure it out and kill it, requiring only that we lead a herd of banthas to its cave and not let ourselves be killed by the violent sand people who would surely take advantage of our distraction to attack us.

No challenge for us. By now, we were well used to the ways of sand people, and even more well versed in defeating them.

The beast emerged as it noticed the banthas, slow and ponderous, with a casualness that belied its earlier speed and ferocity. Komad triggered each set of mines as the dragon reached them, distracting it, slowing it, and finally felling it in a crash that sent sand billowing and vibrations echoing across the desert plain.

Everything stilled, silence falling as the panicked banthas calmed and quieted. The distant snort of a dewback, the quiet whisper of wind, all else waited without sound.

"Well, that's the end to my hunt for the day," Komad said, climbing up onto the creature and working at it with his heavy blade. "A fellow this big, ah, yes. Two pearls. One for me, and one for you lovely ladies." He reached down, tugging something free, then wiped down his blade and crossed to us. He handed me a shimmering grey pearl, light refracting through it, and I knew instinctively it would be a powerful focus for a lightsaber blade.

"We're the ones who ran around everywhere, fought off sand people, and lured the dragon out. All you did was set some mines. You can have the beast's corpse, but I want both pearls."

Juhani frowned, and I sensed Bastila's discomfort.

"I care nothing for the other remains," the hunter said. "The head is too large to be saved for mounting, the desert too dangerous for harvesting its scales relative to their low value. No, all that matters is the pearl. And you will not take my prize from me, I have searched for too long and prepared too much to surrender it to one who only came at the last. If you try to take it, I will fight you, Jedi or no I won't back down on this."

"I would kill you in a heartbeat if you tried to fight me." I said.

"After everything this hunter has done to aid us, you would turn on him?" Juhani demanded. "This betrayal is beneath even you."

"I agree," Bastila said. "Consider your actions, do not let your greed draw you to the Dark Side."

I sighed. I _really_ would have liked the other pearl for my offhand saber. "Fine, keep your prize and get on your way."

Komad regarded me warily, but departed. I let him go, though my hand itched to hurl my saber at his defiant back.

"Your emotions are unsteady," Bastila said, her voice full of concern. "You are not thinking straight. You must fight this darkness within you, it grows stronger every day and you do nothing to curb it."

"Perhaps I don't care any longer what the Jedi think of me," I said, still staring after Komad. "Perhaps I would rather spend some time free of your constant nagging."

Bastila was hurt by that. I could tell, and in the moment I didn't care. I had been treading so carefully, trying so hard to be cautious and subtle, to show them that there was another way than their rigid Jedi teaching.

But they just weren't listening. They had been indoctrinated since they were children, and nothing I said was getting through. They were children still, in truth, repeating back what they'd been told without listening to what they said, without seeing the world around them as it truly was.

I could not make them see how uncertain the world was while I tried so hard to balance between my desires and their expectations and judgmental looks. I could not break their black-and-white understanding of life without giving up too much of my freedom. Within the confines of this mission, within the restraints of the Jedi's belief system, it would be impossible to reconcile.

Dared I try? In the middle of a galaxy-wide chase after ancient power, dared I stop and take a few months just to open their eyes to the galaxy beyond their cloistered order? It would be worth it, if I could bring them to understand the shades of grey in which we all must operate. As a smuggler I saw far too much of grey to ever accept the world as 'light' and 'dark' in truth. But how to show that to a pair of girls who only saw the galaxy as good and evil?

We entered the cave, collected the star map coordinates and Bastila's father's holocron. I barely noticed, I was so wrapped up in thought.

Then something caught my attention, sparkling in a crevice of rock a purple glow of light. My breath caught, and I pried it loose. A crystal. A _purple crystal_. All it needed was a little reshaping, and I could use it to focus my lightsaber. I grinned widely, patting my ugly green saber's hilt affectionately. As soon as we returned to the _Ebon Hawk_ , I'd be spending a bit of quality time with the workbench.

Purple and red. My colours, for sure. Though gold might suit my off-hand better. . . not the yellow Bastila uses, something darker. A crystal like that would probably be incredibly rare, though. Did such a thing even exist? All the more reason to seek one out. I firmly believed that lightsabers should be as special and unique as possible.

Speeders raced up outside, though I couldn't think of a reason for anyone to be out here. Maybe Komad had changed his mind and come back with friends for the Krayt's scales?

But, no. As we reached the cave entrance I saw it was another figure, short and instantly recognizable. Calo Nord, Davik's other enforcer, Canderous's rival. I made a mental note to apologize to Canderous for frying his long-time enemy without him, then strode forward boldly.

"I have to give you credit," the bounty hunter said. "You've led me on quite a chase, but no one gets away from Calo Nord in the end. You were lucky on Taris, the Sith attack saved you from a quick and gruesome death, but I promise you the Sith won't be getting in my way this time."

"You are a fool if you think you can defeat us," I said, gesturing with my hands to indicate Bastila and Juhani. "We are Jedi, your miserable handful of thugs are no match for us."

On Taris, I was alone, injured, and confused. I may have been Force-sensitive, but I was untrained and practically unarmed. My strength had been in flight, not confrontation. On Taris, he was right. I was lucky - beyond lucky, I was protected and guided by the Force. No other explanation could have accounted for so many fortuitous coincidences allowing my survival and escape.

But now? He didn't stand a chance.

"Let's go boys," he said, his confidence undiminished. "It's show time."

I seized his throat in crushing force, held him unable to move, then began lashing out at the mercs in front of me with lightning. Calo struggled, reaching for his adrenals, but I let up the electrical attack and devoted my whole attention to holding him.

His hired mercenaries fell before Bastila and Juhani within moments. They were truly no match for Jedi.

I stepped closer to Calo, my hand out to maintain the lock on his movement, and narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm almost inclined to drag you back to Anchorhead, just so I can give Canderous the pleasure of finishing you off himself," I told him softly. "But, somehow, I feel like he wouldn't appreciate taking down an already beaten man. So I'll just kill you myself, and tell him all about it afterward."

I released him just long enough for him to fall to his knees gasping for breath, then blasted him with the full electric force of my rage. A long, sustained burst of electrical fury. Calo Nord toppled over, smoke sizzling off his scorched armor, and didn't move again.

I stood a long moment, considering our fallen adversary, then smiled and set about collecting his possessions.

"Grab what you can from those thugs, then let's get back to Anchorhead."


	18. Tatooine: Part 5

"Back already?" Helena demanded. "Have you even _looked_ for the holocron yet?"

"I _have_ the holocron, mother," Bastila said calmly. "I just don't know if I want to give it to you."

"And why wouldn't you? Would you deny me even that?"

"I've never denied you anything, mother. You may think I don't remember what it was like before I left for the Order, but I do. I know it was you who pushed father into treasure hunting, I remember the fights. You loved living in wealth, and you were eager to send me to the Jedi even though I didn't want to go. You took father away from me and this holocron is the only thing I have left of him."

"Fool girl, you have a strange way of remembering. That isn't—"

Bastila cut her off. "No, mother. I don't want to argue with you. It's time we parted ways, for both our sakes."

She turned to me, questioning, and I nodded.

"All that time with the Jedi and you've still learned nothing," Helena said bitterly.

"On the contrary," Bastila said, her voice still calm, but anger suffused her core. "I learned when it is best to walk away from a situation which will only lead to conflict."

"How you learn anything when you only hear what you want to is beyond me. Oh, keep the holocron, I meant it for you anyway. I'll just go die peacefully and you needn't be bothered again."

Bastila nodded acceptance. "Farewell, mother. May the Force be with you."

Helena snorted. "It may as well be with one of us." She strode out of the cantina without another word.

Bastila was silent as we walked off in the opposite direction, but sighed heavily as we reached the spaceport. I could feel the mixture of anger and self-recrimination battling within her.

"So, you kept the holocron," I said.

"Yes, but I don't feel any better. I. . . thought that with all my training I would be above such anger. I don't need a holocron to remember my father by! And now I'll never see my mother again. Have I learned nothing?"

"We could go back," Juhani said. "Wherever she is, we could find her."

"No," Bastila said. "And I don't want to talk about it any more. It's done." She turned the holocron over in her hands, staring at its polished surface.

Someone tapped my shoulder, so I waved the two of them to return to the ship and turned to face the newcomer. He was wearing a curious black fibermesh jacket, looked like a custom military outfit but with no identifying insignia. Not the sort of person I'd have expected to see on Tatooine.

"Excuse me," he said, "but I believe you dropped this datapad."

I glanced at it, a sleek black device with no identifying marks or brand logo. I shrugged. "It doesn't look like any of mine."

He held it toward me more insistently. "I am certain. This datapad is yours. You dropped it, so I return it to you."

I frowned. "Is this some kind of scam? You want me to take it home, connect it to my network and personal data, and then it'll send it all back to you or something so you can steal my credits and sell my identity on the black market?"

"No scam, I simply wished to return your belongings. You do not need to use it, of course. Though you should examine it to be sure it isn't broken."

I hesitated, but couldn't think of anything else harmful it could be so long as I didn't connect it to anything or give it my data. Spaceport security would have detected if it were a bomb or something physically harmful.

I turned it over, activated it. The screen came to life, flashing a dim message. "The Genoharadan say to see Hulas on Manaan. Come alone, or not at all."

"What does this mean?" I asked, looking up, but the stranger was gone. When I glanced back at the tablet, the message was gone. Only the faintest outline of three words remained. _Hulas. Manaan. Alone._

I turned it off, glanced up at the starport repair and refuel lists. Manaan was in an almost direct line between Tatooine and Dantooine. We could make it there with what fuel we had and probably a little to spare. From what I could tell, Tatooine's prices were fairly unreasonable. Manaan would make a far more sensible refueling stopover. And, while there, I could slip away and see if this Hulas person was worth my time and attention.

I tapped the datapad thoughtfully, then nodded to myself and entered the docking bay.

* * *

"I fried Calo Nord," I told Canderous. "I hope you don't mind, I know you two had some sort of rivalry going on."

Canderous laughed. "That is giving him more credit than I would have. He thought he could take me on, but he never understood for a moment."

"So you're fine with it?"

"Of course. It doesn't matter to me. As far as I knew, he was dead already on Taris."

"Oh, right." A gizka hopped by, and I crushed its throat with the Force. "So, have any idea what to do with these gizka?"

Canderous shrugged. "I have been using the creatures for target practice."

I grinned. "Good thought."

* * *

The twi'lek hacker girl hadn't left. She was pacing the far room, beside the exit ramp.

"Why are you still here?" I asked. "Didn't your brother come see you? He said he was going to."

"Yes, he came. Tried to sell me on some stupid plan to work with the Exchange and make a fortune reproducing Tarisian Ale. He doesn't know a thing about ale! What was he thinking?"

"Maybe you could help him. He doesn't seem like the sort to have the dedication needed to learn to do a thing properly, but you're resourceful and clever. You could keep him out of trouble, help him find something to settle down to."

The hacker looked at me suspiciously. "You're just trying to get rid of me again. Uh-uh. I told you, where Zaalbar goes, I go."

"So you'll just abandon your brother over a wookie?" I asked.

"He's an adult, he doesn't need me watching out for him. Well, he needs it, but he's not my problem. He _left_ me on Taris, ran off with Lena and then dumped _her_ when she ran out of money. He's just bad news, and we'll be well rid of him."

I sighed. "Listen to me, kid, you don't understand what we're doing here. It's extremely dangerous, we've already had to fight off dark Jedi assassins, and things aren't going to get safer. I can't protect you out there, and if you insist on tagging along you'll just be waiting in the ship most of the time."

She shrugged. "Then give me something to do. I can check the holonet, keep you apprised of rumors without the Sith tracking me. I can manage investments, I've found some trade routes that are always turning a profit. I just never had the money to start myself. I don't want to be a helpless tagalong. Let me be of use."

"Alright," I agreed reluctantly. "Do what you can to help out, but your safety is _not_ my concern. If you get yourself killed, it's not my problem."

"Thanks, your concern is noted," she said dryly. "Don't worry, I'll play along with your rules and I won't wander off alone."

I turned to go, then hesitated. "I suppose. . . you did pretty good on Taris, getting Canderous's attention, tracking our bounties. See if you can find any mention on Manaan, Korriban, or Kashyyyk of mysterious ancient relics, or anything about Revan and Malak visiting. We got lucky here, since the map was near the only real settlement with a spaceport, but on more heavily settled worlds there are so many more places we could land."

She grinned. "You can count on me."

I paused once more. "What was your name again?"

"Mission. Mission Vao."

I nodded once, turned to look her in the eyes. "I'm not going to go easy on you, Mission. I meant what I told you, if you're going to travel with me, it's on MY terms, and that means curb the inclination for back-talk. When I give you an order, remember that it's an _order_."

"Yeah, I understand. You're a big important Jedi who'd rather not be stuck with me. But since you are, we'll both try to make the best of it."

"Exactly."

* * *

Onasi was waiting in the pilot compartment, but glanced awkwardly away when I entered.

"You want something?" I asked. "Don't be shy."

"I. . . know we didn't end our last conversation well. I've been thinking about it a lot while you were gone, and I wanted to apologize."

I couldn't remember enough about our recent conversations to guess wanted to apologize for. We always ended up yelling at each other, it was a good outlet for unused emotion.

He went on without waiting for a reply. "I was just so _desperate_ to finally face Saul in the battle over Taris, and then the Jedi wanted us looking for these _maps_ instead. I feel useless, sitting around waiting on the ship. But I know what we're doing is important, and I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you."

"I'm just as frustrated. I'd love to be out chasing Kareth too," I told him. "Really, don't worry about it."

"But I do worry. I should be better than this, and I know how important this mission is. Will you accept my apology?"

"Of course," I said, smiling. "I would say don't let it happen again, but let's face it. We're just made to yell at each other."

"You're in a good mood," Onasi said, in a tone of sudden realization. "You got what you were looking for?"

I nodded. "Yep. We don't need to spend any longer on this dust ball. _And_ ," I held up the purple crystal, smiled. Once we were underway, I'd be heading back to the workbench to shape it and fit it into my saber. "Pretty good day's work, eh?"

"That was fast," he agreed. "Maybe this mission will be easier than I thought. Where to next, then?"

"We'll stop off at Manaan to refuel on our way to Dantooine, though I'll probably scout the place a bit since we'll be heading right back there after."

I slipped into the pilot seat, Onasi took the seat beside me. I checked the cameras to make sure everyone was inside before taking off, then set in our trajectory.

"Onasi?" I asked, hesitantly.

"Yes? What is it?"

"I have a bit of a dilemma," I said quietly. "I'm trying to teach Juhani and Bastila that there's more to life and to people than what their Jedi order taught them. That the world isn't a mosaic of black and white, that decisions aren't simply 'light' or 'dark'. But I can't _force_ them to see without damaging their trust in me. Normally, I'd just drop them off on Nar Shaddaa for a few weeks, but I'm not sure if I can take the time, or dare risk the exposure."

I sighed. "We had to fight off a team of Malak's dark Jedi already. If he doesn't know what we're up to yet, he soon will. I think sending _us_ of all people to hunt down these maps is idiotic, but we're not strong enough to face him directly. Not by a long way."

Onasi leaned back in his seat. He was quiet a long moment before speaking. "I'm not sure I agree with you. The Jedi may take things to extremes, but there is no denying that people, and individual actions, can be _very_ black and white. What Saul Kareth did was evil, and even if he had nothing to do with the Force or a Dark Side, that darkness is real."

"I'm not saying there are _no_ absolutes," I said. "But not everything _is_ an absolute. I'm not evil, but I certainly wouldn't call myself a paragon of the Light either. You're a soldier and you follow orders, but not all of those orders would align fully with your ideals. You surely have done things you regret. While there are extreme instances, like Kareth or Malak, most people aren't so easily categorized."

Onasi nodded slowly. "I suppose you're right about that. But not everyone can survive having their ideals torn away. There's an. . . innocence to the Jedi, as if they've determined that the world _will_ be as they envision it."

"That's a foolish weakness," I said firmly. "Insisting on seeing the world through your own certainties and not accepting its true variance is arrogant. It leads to misunderstanding, makes you judgmental and harsh, makes it hard to empathize with others."

"I don't disagree. The Jedi, as a whole, are self-delusional and ignorant. But look what happened to Revan and Malak! They left their cloistered order, saw the real world, and turned _completely_ _evil_. Without knowing what triggered it, are you sure you want to go messing with the beliefs of young, powerful Jedi like Bastila and Juhani? What if they turn on us? You can't risk it."

I sighed. "You may be right. They're young, they'll learn in their own time. I shouldn't be pushing them so hard. It's not their fault."

"I'm glad you can concede that," Onasi said.

I smiled over at him, and we sat together in companionable silence as Tatooine vanished into the distance behind us.


	19. Manaan: Part 1

_The deep ocean pressed upon me, trying to find a crack or weakness in my protective suit. Fish swam by, huge fish that could swallow me with no more than a couple bites, small fish that avoided me, fish whose auras sparked against my own and who looked to me with curiosity and eagerness. I knew I could reach out easily to these, bend them all to my will, but the ocean floor held only one thing I wanted and an army of fish would be of little aid._

 _The Star Map._

 _I approached, its mighty guardian-fish waiting to the side, watching me. The Force flowed through us, between us, and it understood that I meant no harm to its kind._

 _I reached out with the Force, power surging to press and turn just right, activating the device. The star map opened. . ._

* * *

"Too bad your visions never show us the map itself," I grumbled to Bastila as we brought the _Ebon Hawk_ in to Manaan's spaceport after a one-day delay in orbit. Busy place nowadays, it seemed. "That would save us the trouble of searching it out."

"This quest is not meant to be easy," Bastila said. "The Force tests us all, and it seems to have taken a stronger hand in our lives than most masters could lay claim to."

"Well, that doesn't make it any less uncomfortable," I muttered. Something about the thought of being underwater, a tight-pressed suit the only thing protecting me from the crushing weight of the planet around. . . I shuddered.

"Don't be afraid," Bastila said, her calm certainty helping stabilize my unsteady emotions. "The Force will be with us."

I nodded. "We're just here for a quick stop today," I reminded her. "I'll check in with the local authorities, get people thinking about where the Star Map could be. You and Onasi are in charge of refueling, repairs, and resupply."

"You're going out alone?" Bastila asked.

"Why not?" I shrugged. "Ahto City is a secure neutral zone. Sith and Republic ships are parked side by side. I won't be in any danger."

"I'd feel more comfortable—" Bastila started, but I cut her off.

"You're the most recognizable one of us," I pointed out. "Malak apparently wants you specifically, and now myself and Onasi by acquaintanceship, but mainly you. I'm sorry, I think you're going to have to keep a low profile from now on."

"We were instructed to do this together," she reminded me. "You'll need my strength."

"I never denied it," I said. "But right now I'm just getting the lay of the land. . . er, sea-platform. I'll take Mission with me, get her in touch with contacts she can maintain over the holonet while we're on Dantooine."

"Mission?" Bastila said, sounding surprised, then shrugged. "I'm glad you've acknowledged her value as a part of this team."

"If she refuses to leave, we might as well benefit," I said casually, but I knew Bastila could sense the grudging respect I held for the hacker. For a kid, Mission was awfully determined.

Bastila smiled. "Have fun."

* * *

"Entering Ahto City secure zone; cameras are active."

I frowned at the automated alert, played in Selkath, as I exited our hangar. I didn't like the idea of being watched and recorded, especially if I was supposed to be attending a covert meeting. Though why, I still had no idea.

The 'Genoharadan'. A distinct enough name, if I'd happened across any mention of it in my smuggling days I would have remembered. Whoever they were, they clearly operated in the utmost of secrecy.

"What did you find out about Manaan?" I asked Mission. "Any hints about our Star Map?"

"There wasn't much to find," she said. "Most of the news about Manaan is regarding neutrality 'incidents'. People being arrested for this or that, mostly Republic and Sith soldiers getting out of line. Manaan is strict about its neutrality."

We walked past a pair of soldiers arguing loudly, one wearing the Republic's familiar red uniform, the other in Sith greys.

"I guess people can't really leave their problems at the door," I said quietly. The argument didn't quite look on the point of blows, but the Republic soldier wasn't keeping his temper well at all.

"Roland Wann is the Republic representative here," Mission continued. "That might be a good place to start. He probably knows more about the planet than we'd ever find on the holonet."

I nodded. "Can you get in touch with him? Have him start looking for the Star Map?"

Mission shrugged. "He doesn't have an open line for calls, we'd need to visit the Republic Enclave in person."

"Any other leads?"

She shook her head. "Nothing substantial. The Sith probably know at least something, but asking around _their_ enclave would be just looking for trouble. They aren't the most friendly to strangers poking into their business. Even if they didn't know I was with a Jedi, they'd be more likely to sell me as a slave than give me useful intel."

We fell silent as we walked through a large visitor's area, with benches and computer terminals around the perimeter and a huge central fountain, water flowing constantly down long dividers in its center. Only a handful of people sat or stood around here; two played pazaak at a low table, one reading her datapad who glanced up briefly as we entered before returning to it.

No one seemed particularly interested in us. I'd opted for less obviously-Jedi clothing for this outing, and Mission and I might as well be tourists.

Past the visitor center we entered the small check-in area. Guard droids swiveled their heads, watching everything, and the official behind the desk waved us forward.

"Welcome to Ahto City, captain," he said in Selkath, passing me a datadisc. "By leaving the spaceport, you agree to follow our rules. First, Kolto smuggling is punishable by death. Second, at all costs our neutrality will be maintained."

I slipped the disc into my datapad, brought up the form to fill out. Basic information about the ship, the number of passengers and crew, who would be entering the city, whether we had a Kolto permit. It took very little time to enter in our details, and I ejected the disc to pass back.

"We'll follow your rules," I told him.

He nodded. "A 100-credit docking fee is required each time your ship lands, but you won't have to register again unless you have new information to update it with."

I waved a hand firmly in front of him. "We don't need to pay the docking fee."

Mission grinned as he echoed it back, opening the door for us to enter. "I can be convincing when I want to be, but that mind trick is something else!" she said quietly as we stepped through.

My first sight of Manaan's surface brought back remembered feelings of pleasant times and companionship. I couldn't have said who I remembered being with, where, or when - my mind substituted Bastila and Onasi automatically - but there was something incredibly calming about Manaan's low, sweeping platforms and the endless lapping of their ocean.

I tried not to imagine the chaos a storm could wreak. Then again, upon taking a second look the platforms and the structures atop them seemed well molded together, no loose furniture about, no delicate awnings. Heavy support struts connected everything, creating a vast web of durasteel that probably could handle anything Manaan's oceans could throw at it.

"I'm going to look around a bit," I told Mission. "Go find that Wann guy, find out if the Republic can help. I'll meet you back at the ship."

She nodded and scampered off, while I tried to figure out how to inconspicuously locate Hulas. It was possible he, or she, was back in the visitor center, but if I failed to locate the contact here I could always check there on my way back to the _Ebon Hawk_.

I avoided anyone with an obvious Sith or Republic affiliation - and in fact skirted more than a few heated arguments between the groups - and tried instead to find anyone who seemed out of place. Most Selkath were moving about their affairs with the calm certainty of everyday life, and somehow I doubted Hulas would be anything so mundane.

I approached dozens of visitors as I wandered through the platform sections, from swoop racers to tourists to mercenaries, but they either refused to share their names or the name turned out to be something other than Hulas.

I did acquire a wide variety of random contacts, a few paying jobs I could pick up if the need arose.

A pair of rodians stood near the edge of the platform some distance apart, one staring out at the water, the other muttering to himself and fiddling with his sleeves. I saw the teltale peek of cards about the second, and figured him for a shady gambler. The other, however, looked like a tourist but there was something about his stance that seemed too confident, too battle-ready.

He wasn't wearing anything unusual, but he stood out. Probably just another mercenary, wavering between offers from the Republic and Sith factions. But I'd come this far, might as well try everyone.

"Excuse me," I said, catching his attention. He turned, glanced me over.

"Many Selkath there are to see, but you choose to speak with me. Senni did not believe you would come, but I knew better," he said, cryptically.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I am Hulas. I see that you received our message, and chose to seek answers."

"What do you want with me?" I asked.

"The Genoharadan live in near-complete secrecy. If you spoke to others about us, they would think you paranoid or insane. So, I can tell you that we are a group of bounty hunters who have existed as long as the Republic. We are shadow, darkness, and night. Invisible to all but a select few in the highest corridors of power."

"And why have you revealed yourselves to me?" I asked.

"You are the one who defeated Calo Nord, a not-inconsiderable feat despite your Jedi connections. You have great potential, if you do not throw away this chance. Know this, if you betray us, mention us even to your closest allies, we will vanish and never contact you again. We will be but a figment of your imagination, a ghost of a memory."

"I came alone, as requested," I pointed out.

"If you had not, I would never have told you this much," Hulas said. "Will you commit to preserving the secrecy of our order?"

"Sure, why not. It's not like I'd gain anything by telling anyone about you."

Hulas laughed, inclined his head. "I believe you will be a valuable addition to our ranks. Are you ready to prove yourself worthy of this position we offer?"

"Well, what's in it for me, first?"

"You will be aiding the survival of the Republic. Without the Genoharadan arranging affairs in the shadows, it would never have stood for so long."

"And that helps me how?"

"We also pay our agents very, very well," Hulas said, smiling. "Your first tasks will not be difficult, but the rewards are great."

"Alright, fine. What do you want me to do?"

"Two targets you may choose between. The elimination of either, or both, will be rewarded and prove your temperament correct for this position." He watched me as though half expecting me to object.

I shrugged. "Assassinations? Who are the targets?"

"Zuulan Sentar, a gran slaver on Dantooine," Hulas said, passing me a pair of datadiscs. "And Lorgal, a rodian terrorist here on Manaan."

I accepted the discs, looked them over curiously. Both were triangular, with matching irregularities along one edge and a shimmering multicolour inlay. I could tell at a glance they would not fit in a standard datapad.

"These will only run on the datapad you sent, I assume?" I asked, bringing it out.

"Correct. They are quite ingenious, the datapad loads the information from them physically and thus they can neither be copied or altered without extremely specialized equipment. Once read, they will be blank again. You may either return or destroy the empty frames."

"Alright. Do I always report to you, or are there multiple contacts across the galaxy?" I asked.

Hulas spread his arms. "We are everywhere, though but a few. You have not earned a sufficient rank within our society to warrant more than a single contact, myself. Senni believed you did not deserve even that, but I convinced him otherwise. I alone within the Genoharadan believe you have what it takes."

"You're allowed to do that? Approach someone yourself?"

"I am quite highly ranked myself. I have earned that privilege. You have your targets, but before you go, I have three warnings for you. First, you must only approach me alone if you wish to speak of our affairs. You have promised to preserve our secrecy, and that extends to my own position. Second, when carrying out tasks for the Genoharadan, you must never reveal our involvement as a motive. It must always seem that you are acting independently, or for the good of the Republic. Lastly, you are not permitted to seek alternate information about the target. You cannot ask questions about them or interview acquaintances. What we tell you in the discs will be enough for you to locate them. Do you understand and agree?"

"Not even a holonet search?" I asked.

"Such searches can be found and tracked, and the Genoharadan leaves no trace. It is essential to preserve the complete secrecy of our guild."

"Why are you on Manaan, then?" I asked. "There are security cameras everywhere, aren't you concerned someone could take the footage and read your lips?"

Hulas smiled. "Ah, you are indeed a worthy addition to our ranks. I have taken steps to ensure my own privacy, and that of those who come to me. But you cannot distract me. Do you agree to follow our terms?"

"I already said I'd preserve your secrecy, these warnings seem completely within that agreement." He didn't stop looking at me. I sighed. "Yes, I agree. Again."

"Good." He passed me another triangular disc, this one with a solid black center panel instead of the others' multicoloured iridescence. "Only run this in the datapad when you are again on Manaan and need to speak with me. It will send out a one-time signal so I know to meet you here."

I smiled and pocketed the disc. "I've always wanted to be part of a secret assassin guild," I said. "You say you carry out jobs for those in highest power within the Republic?"

"Indeed. Though the tasks you yourself will be performing are those we as a guild require, until you have proven yourself a dozen times over and then some. The higher the profile of the target, the less room for error there is. I believe you will rise quickly, but we must be ever careful."

"Oh, I'm not complaining. I'll take out whoever you need me to. I just plan on becoming one 'in the highest corridors of power' though perhaps not within the structure of the Republic."

Hulas shrugged. "Your personal ambitions are irrelevant. Those in power can as easily serve the Genoharadan as hire us. We are also very discerning of the jobs we take on, so if you desire your own opposition eliminated you will have to prove to us it is in _our_ best interests to do so."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said, "but I fully anticipate being able to eliminate my own opposition without your help."

Hulas smiled again. "As I would expect from one as competent as yourself."

I chuckled at that. "Well, nice meeting you. I'll see you again once the targets are dead."

"You only need to complete one of the tasks to prove your capacity," Hulas reminded me.

I grinned. "I know. I'll see you again once they're dealt with."

* * *

I returned to the _Ebon Hawk_ without anyone seeming to be suspicious. I had worried that our random refueling stop on Manaan of all places would have seemed unusual, but everyone seemed to take my explanation of it being for 'scouting the next map' at face value.

I congratulated the crew on their fine work on the repairs and refueling, then set our course for Dantooine. As beautiful as Manaan's surface was, I was very glad to be away from the knowledge that I somehow had to get to the planet's deeply buried surface to find the map. At least for a few days, a week perhaps to relax and resume my training properly.

Once we were in hyperspace, I returned to my room with the Genoharadan datapad. I had some targets to read up on.


	20. Return: Part 1

_I walked the command deck of my starship, a vast window spread out beside me showing the thinly scattered stars of this unknown region of space, my command crew behind me working to keep everything running smoothly. We were nearing it, something that drew to me and terrified me at the same moment._

 _A darkness, vast and unrelenting, reaching out to us. I wanted to seize it, to control it, bring it to bear against my enemies. I wanted to surrender to it, fall into its vastness and let it carry me away._

 _I wanted to turn around and run, run as far as I could away from it and never stop running._

 _I suppressed my fear, strangled my desire, forced my body and mind into stillness. I stood, refusing to pace, stared out the window defiantly. "There is no emotion, there is peace," I recited, breathing deeply and steadily. Whatever waited out there, I must face it with strength and calm. This was not the time to falter._

* * *

"I've been meaning to speak with you," Bastila said quietly. We would arrive at Dantooine within a few hours, and we'd just finished a practice meditation. "I understand that you revel in your emotions, but it is difficult for me to stay focused when you are constantly transmitting them to me through the bond."

I bristled at the 'subtle' attempt at preaching serenity. I wasn't _that_ terrible at meditating. "I'm sorry, but if you're expecting me to change—"

"No," Bastila interrupted, "I'm sorry to have misled you. I can learn to focus despite the interference given enough time. That is not what I want to talk to you about."

"Well, what then?" I asked. Her emotions were confused, almost as though she were bracing herself for something that terrified her.

"I. . . have noticed that whenever the Dark Lord's name is mentioned, you experience a sudden and extremely strong flash of rage. Do you . . .know the reason for it?"

I appreciated Bastila's attempts to spare me hearing his name, but since I knew who we were talking about a low burn of fury still flared within me.

"I'm assuming it's because I'm Revan's daughter, but I can't remember what he did to offend me so much that I hate him to such an extent."

Bastila gave a mental start of surprise at my revelation.

I shrugged and continued. "I'm sure it'll either grow easier with time, or we'll defeat Malak and then everyone will be talking about that instead."

She sat quietly for several minutes thinking it over.

Her shock helped reassure me. I'd worried that she and the Jedi all knew about my associations, that they were all trying to manipulate me in secret. To know that Bastila was not a part of their schemes relieved a silent worry I hadn't even realized I'd been carrying.

"To my knowledge, the Dark Lord had no children," Bastila said gently. "You may be—"

"Well, of course he wouldn't have told the Jedi," I interrupted before she could go on. "They're so judgmental! Even yourself, though to a lesser extent. If I told you _I_ was getting married, to Onasi say, or Canderous, you'd go all Jedi-mode and preach at me about the evils of love. Of _course_ Revan would have hidden his family."

"The Dark Lord would not have been old enough to give birth to you," Bastila explained, her voice calm and controlled, but her emotions felt tight with an odd strain I couldn't interpret. She did know something, something that worried her greatly. "You are mistaken, I know for certainty that you cannot be Revan's daughter."

I scoffed. "Then what, his _wife_?" I had meant it as a joke, but stilled as I said it. Now _that_ could explain much. If I was Revan's secret _wife_ , then no wonder I felt so furious. He'd left me behind to go into unknown space, then come back completely evil! But why would I forget so much of my life? I must have turned to smuggling to provide for myself after he abandoned me. "I wonder what my wedding was like?" I mused quietly. "Probably something private."

"I believe you have misunderstood Revan's nature," Bastila said quietly. "I'm not sure I should be the one to explain, Master Dorak would be better suited—"

"Incoming fighters!" Onasi shouted, and the ship bucked and rocked.

"We'll finish this later," I told Bastila hastily, already running toward the pilot compartment to take over so Onasi could join Canderous manning the guns. I did my best to weave between the ships, but they were smaller and more maneuverable still. I couldn't dodge their attacks entirely, and the shields took a constant barrage of laser fire.

Onasi and Canderous knew what they were doing though. The attacking fighters exploded. One, then two more, then a rapid flurry of shots took out all but the last. I briefly wondered if there was any way to capture the fighter, but the _Ebon Hawk_ wasn't equipped with either a tractor beam or the bays needed to store or launch such a craft.

A moment longer, and the last blip on the scanner vanished. I brought us back into line, another hour to go as we traveled outside of hyperspace to reach the proper location for the series of jumps that would bring us to Dantooine.

It was a common enough route, a patch of space where the many stars in relatively close proximity threatened to pull any starship off course if you tried to move through at lightspeed, but offering clear and easy passage for a good distance in most other directions. Dantooine was far from the only destination that would have brought us to this patch of space.

But still, I worried. The Sith had already found us once, on Tatooine, and I had no desire to face them again until I had grown much stronger. And I certainly didn't want them bringing Malak down on us. I would face the Sith lord eagerly, Bastila at my side and lightning in my hand, but we were nowhere near ready yet.

"We took some minor damage," Onasi reported. "The shields held on everything essential, but I'd like to have the ship gone over at the Enclave before we head out again."

"We just had it repaired on Manaan," I grumbled. "How much upkeep does it take?"

Onasi shrugged. "We _were_ attacked by Sith fighters. They must be stalking the hyperspace lanes, waiting at common junctions to catch Jedi unaware. Or, worse, looking for us specifically. Either way, I'd prefer the _Ebon Hawk_ stay in as good condition as we can manage. The next encounter might not go so easily."

I couldn't really argue. And we certainly had the funds, now. Working for Czerka had proved quite profitable.

* * *

Our return to Dantooine's wild plains demonstrated just how much the trip to Tatooine had strengthened me. Kath hounds that once would have been at least a mild threat fell before us without more than a pause. The remaining Mandalorian and Duros thugs presented almost an equally small challenge. My connection to the Force continued its steady increase.

The trip to the Crystal Caves was nearly anticlimactic. We slaughtered the kinrath spiders that had taken up residence there and found well over a dozen usable crystals for our lightsabers. A good mix of power and colour crystals, though no purple so I was actually glad we had gone to Tatooine for the silly map coordinates.

I considered switching my blades to blue and green for the duration of our stay so the masters wouldn't look at me with quite so much judgment in their eyes, but decided that I really didn't care what they thought any longer. I had grown stronger even without their training, and I was growing more certain that the weaknesses within the Jedi Order were more than just surface flaws.

The Order had deep problems. I wasn't going to allow them to control me, nor would I try overly hard to change them. Juhani and Bastila were my test cases. If I could convince them to use sense and not be so superstitiously afraid of admitting their emotions, I would _consider_ returning to liberate other Jedi students young and open-minded enough to join me in a complete reformation of the Order.

I wouldn't call them Jedi, of course. That name was too well entrenched with their isolationist noninterference folly. Perhaps I would name them after myself. Or my _dead husband_.

Though thinking of Revan made me inexplicably furious, but the idea of naming the new order of Jedi 'Revanites' gave me an equally inexplicable surge of vengeful joy.

Why vengeful? What sense did that make, if I so hated Revan? _Anger. Rage_. I couldn't remember a thing about him, but thinking about forming a group of Jedi, teaching them, calling them Revanites. . . _Pleasure. Glee, even?_ What was going on with my emotions? Not that it bothered my particularly much, but I was curious.

On the way back from the caves, we stopped by the Mandalorian camp again. Their leader had returned from wherever he'd been off, and threatened to destroy us. He came closer than his men, even knocking Bastila out for a few moments, but in the end he and his collection of stolen lightsabers were no match for my power.

We collected the reward from that settler guy, who was grateful that his daughter had been avenged, then headed back into the enclave.

The Ebon Hawk wasn't finished yet. The repairs were coming along well, with Onasi and T3 working while Mission ran and fetched what they needed from the cargo bays or the nearby shops.

I'd hoped to avoid it, had deliberately visited the caves first, but now there was no excuse. It was time to report back to the Council.

* * *

 _Author's Note: It has been pointed out to me that the transition between 'scouting Manaan' and 'suddenly on Dantooine' was not well explained. I have added a short section to the end of the previous chapter, as I feel it flows less awkwardly on the departure end than the arrival end. It's just the very last paragraph on chapter nineteen, if you haven't read 'Manaan: Part 1' more recently than March 26, 2017, then it might help to go do so. _


	21. Return: Part 2

"It's good that you're alive, apprentice, in that you haven't managed yet to fail us completely," Master Vrook said, watching me with his typical grouchy expression. "But why are you here instead of searching out the Star Maps? You know the fate of the galaxy rests with you, and yet you insist on going your own way even now?"

I glared at him. "I already _found_ the next map," I said defiantly, bringing out my datapad and transmitting the map coordinates to the Jedi Enclave servers. "And Vandar told me I could return any time to report or seek advice, has that changed?"

The masters exchanged glances with each other. I could almost feel the judgment in the room, their thick disapproval of my tone and arrogant stance. I wanted to believe it was just Vrook, but I couldn't help but think that the atmosphere had changed while I was away, and not for the better. The masters' presence felt constraining, almost suffocating now.

Though I'd been anticipating my return to training, now I found I wanted to be away as soon as possible.

"It is well that you returned to report your findings," Vandar said, "But remember that Malak does not know we reside here. He trained as a youth on Coruscant, and did not know the locations of all the Jedi enclaves. If you are being followed, he could learn of us here if you return each time."

"I mostly just wanted new lightsaber enhancement crystals," I admitted. "But, surely Malak would have found out about you when he came here to collect the Star Map?" I added. "It's not far from the settlement, and the feel of Jedi masters is not easy to conceal. I can sense it easily from the ruins. I would definitely reconsider your assessment if you believe Dantooine is somehow 'secret' from Malak."

The masters exchanged another glance, but before the conversation could continue a ruckus arose in the connecting hallway.

"I demand to be heard!" a man shouted, barging into the council chamber. "The Sandral family is a blight upon Dantooine! Nurik kidnapped my son, and I demand justice!"

Vrook growled, but Vandar motioned me to the side. "Stay, apprentice. If you are going to be remaining here for some time, this is a matter which you could resolve. It would be a good test of your learning while away."

"I was only gone a week," I mumbled, but moved to the side. Probably a bit more distanced from the council members than was strictly needed.

I had indeed gained much during the trip to Tatooine. Nothing specific, of course, I hadn't unlocked any long-lost secrets of Jedi power, just a general strengthening of my Force connection and abilities. Perhaps that was all. Perhaps the masters had always had such a heavy presence, I just wasn't aware enough to perceive it before now.

The man, Ahlan Matale, was quite upset about the disappearance of his son, and wanted Jedi to investigate. The council talked gently around his angry arguments, explained that I would be leading the investigation, and then dismissed him with the same calm.

I'd never have been able to keep my temper in check with that man yelling at _me_. He was blatantly disrespectful, and making demands of the Jedi Council no less.

Of course, _I_ didn't respect them much at all, and the sight of Vrook in particular made me want to bash his arrogant judgmental _face_ in, but it was different with me. I was an adult student, learning with them. I wouldn't have thought the Order had fallen so far into weakness that they would stand there and calmly accept such blatant rudeness from a mere settler.

Still. I had other reasons to wander Dantooine outside the enclave, and the noble manors seemed the proper place to start in the search for Zuulan for the Genoharadan. If the Jedi wanted me to deal with this silly feud, all the better. Coming straight from the Jedi Council would lend my every action that extra weight of legitimacy.

I turned to leave, but hesitated. Something pulled at my memory, pieces that didn't quite fit, conversations half-heard, visions half-understood. I felt a pull, as though some part of me wanted to remain. Something left not quite finished.

"Padawan?" Vandar asked.

"Bastila said something to me," I said slowly, casting my thoughts back. "About not understanding Revan's true nature. I thought I was his daughter, or his wife, but something she mentioned. That the Dark Lord wouldn't have been old enough to 'give birth' to me. She said she knew beyond doubt I wasn't his daughter, but that I had misunderstood his nature. I didn't see it until now. Revan was a woman, not a man."

Master Dorak nodded slowly.

I clenched my fists on my saber hilts, the conversation and constant thought of Revan bringing on that slow burning fury and hatred at the world. But I managed, barely, to keep my tone steady. "How am I connected with him—her? I know there is some connection, every time Bastila dreams of him I get sucked in so fast, so strongly. Why? Why can't I remember my life, my connection to hi—her?"

"We had hoped to keep this from you longer," Master Dorak said, but before he could continue Vrook stepped forward and cut him off.

"This is not a concern for a padawan, especially one so thick with anger and hatred," Vrook snapped, glaring at me as though he wanted to lock me up forever, then turned to face his fellow masters. "We cannot do this."

"We must," Zhar said slowly. "The padawan is not blind or stupid, and it would only hurt the Jedi Order if the truth is revealed by our enemies or discovered through chance."

"It will hurt us here and now if we give in," Vrook insisted. "I will not let you."

"Peace, Vrook," Vandar said, calm and steady. "Would you wait for her strength to grow beyond what we could control? Would you forge a new path in conflict and lies? We have done what we could, and the truth must be told."

Something about the currents here, the undertones, the hesitance. The way the Force moved. The way they looked. I began to feel a creeping dread, a dark anticipation that threatened to overwhelm even my instinctive hatred of Revan's mention. But an eagerness, too, a reaching toward something that may be finally close enough to grasp. As though two parts within me warred.

And beneath both, I again felt the crushing absence of _something_ , a memory forgotten without which the galaxy was doomed. As though Revan's loss would destroy us all.

"They're not _Bastila's_ nightmares, they're mine," I whispered, awed. Quiet certainty suffused me, the pieces clicking into place. " _I_ was Revan. I don't remember 'my' life, because 'I' don't exist. The smuggler 'R' was just an imprint, a new identity trying to cover up the truth of who I am."

Vrook's hand went to his lightsaber.

Zhar held out a hand to stop him, nodded to me. "You are correct, padawan. You were once a great hero of the Jedi, who then became the Dark Lord of the Sith. And now, broken and reformed, you have come full circle to become Jedi once again."

I shook my head, the fury and hatred finally given form and substance. They had done something unforgivable. My hatred wasn't for _Revan_ , my hatred was for this Council and what they did _to_ Revan.

To _me_.

"No," I said, my words harsh and bitter, snapped out with staccato force. "I am no Jedi."

Vandar nodded. Vrook's jaw was clenched tightly, his frown even more pronounced than usual. Zhar sighed.

Dorak made a small shrugging motion with his hands. "We always knew the conditioning would be of limited use on one of your strength," he said. "But believe me when I say we had no choice. When Malak betrayed you, much of your mind was already lost to you. Reconstructing it even to the extent that you could walk and speak took the effort of weeks. We feared your connection to the Force would never recover, but we hoped you could still show us a way forward to defeat Malak and the Sith."

"You rewrote my being to serve yourselves," I hissed, my voice rising as I stopped holding back. All the fury and hatred that had been waiting, undirected in the back of my mind for so long, boiled to the fore. "You wanted to _use_ me. But if you had any idea what I was, what I planned, what I was doing, you'd never have tried to stop me. It was _your_ interference that let my fool apprentice destroy me. If you had just _listened to me_ this all could have been avoided! It was _your_ attempts to exploit me that lost us what might have remained of my plans."

"Padawan, calm yourself," Vandar said. "There is no emotion, there is peace."

"Peace is nothing," I retorted sharply. "I choose to accept my passion. And I tell you now, I will _not_ allow you to exploit my life, my power, or my knowledge ever again. I _will_ destroy Malak, for he was ever a fool and now a powerful and violent fool. I will destroy Saul Kareth, for he is a blight upon the galaxy. And because I know that it was misguided weakness that guided your actions and not malice, I will offer you this _one_ chance to walk away. I will return one day to claim my repayment from the Jedi Order for what they have done to me, but until that day comes _stay out of my way._ "

"You are giving yourself back to the Dark Side," Zhar warned. "If you continue down this path, we will have no choice but to oppose you. You need time to find peace, to recover your balance."

"I will not give in to darkness," I insisted. "I will bind it to my will. And I have neither the time nor the desire to seek _peace_. I have lost too much time, too much ground, too much _everything_ because of _you_."

A tiny voice inside my thoughts warned that I should calm down, that opposing the Jedi Council was a dangerous place to stand.

I didn't listen to it.

Finally, finally, I understood the truth of my life. The forgotten and lost was gone because of them. Directly, by their fumbling attempts to rewrite my soul in their image. Indirectly, by their interference in my plan - my beautiful perfect plan that hovered just beyond the edge of memory. I could remember that there was a plan, I could remember disconnected things I'd done toward that plan, but the goal itself and why it was so important continued to elude me. Something about saving the galaxy, but how and from what I couldn't guess.

I had to find it again. I had to rediscover my destiny, had to find what I'd thought so important as to dedicate my entire life to it at the cost of my once-pure devotion to the Light. What would have been so galaxy-shaking that I had been willing to shift myself so far into darkness? I _had_ declared myself a Sith Lord, after all.

My ultimate sacrifice, my willingness to go as far as I had to, do whatever was needed to in a desperate plan to save as much of the Republic as I could. And they couldn't accept it. The Jedi Order, who for so long refused to help, had finally stepped in only to invalidate my life, my goals, my very being.

No, more than that. I hadn't merely been invalidated, I had been _destroyed_. The person I was no longer existed. I was an empty shell of my former self, unable to grasp the Force properly, unable to remember anything beyond a few 'visions' and the vague blur of the puppet life they intended for me.

In that moment, I wanted more than anything to lash out with the burning fury within me, to let the lightning playing along my hands and arms blast the entire Council and their entire stupid order of idiots to ash.

But that would be wasteful. There were many young Jedi I would want to train in my new order, once I found the right place and time.

And, I had to admit to myself, I wasn't that strong. Now that Malak's betrayal had burned away the vast portion of my self, I would never be able to overpower four Jedi Masters. If they chose to defy my ultimatum, I would have no recourse. They could lock me in Force barriers, hold me prisoner, rewrite my soul again until it held me firmly.

The thought writhed in my stomach like a viper kinrath wanting to hatch, a sick feeling of complete violation. If they tried that, I would turn my power on myself. I would never let them touch my mind again. I would sooner burn myself out, accept oblivion and leave the fools to their own destruction.

The room was silent, still. I stood defiant, not letting my fears or doubts show. The only sounds were the quiet beeping of the training room's machinery and the rustling sound of distant people walking, my heavy breaths and the sparking of lightning as it played across my body. The expectant hush of the masters as they watched me.

I felt their power, then. As I stilled my train of furious thought, took in the atmosphere. They held a barrier between us, not to restrain me, merely to shield themselves.

They hadn't spoken, it seemed they were waiting for something. For me?

Then I felt Bastila rush into the room. "Padawan, what are you—" she stopped, staggered as the full weight of my emotions flooded her through our bond, intensified by our near proximity.

"You know," she whispered, putting a hand out to steady herself against the wall. She didn't meet my eyes, I sensed her shame and regret. "I am so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," I told her, my voice coldly calm. "I saved your life, and you saved mine. My power protected you, your power protected me. We are forever joined by that moment. Your destiny lies with mine."

I turned, then, and the sight of her melted my fury away. As much as I wanted to strangle each and every council member for what they had done, in a way I had to respect them for it. My teaching, that they had to act, had sunk in. They had just chosen the wrong way to exhibit that action.

"I told you once," I said softly. "I will never hurt you. I will protect you with all my power. You are mine, Bastila Shan of the Revanite Order. My. . . Second Sister."

Bastila frowned, feeling very confused. There was more to it, but I didn't have time to sort through her emotions right now.

I turned on the Council. "This is my first demand, but not my last. Bastila and Juhani are mine. You gave them to me, and I have claimed them. I will protect them from Sith and Jedi alike, their fate lies with me. My new Order is born from this moment."

"You are mad," Vrook said. "We will never allow—"

"You burn with hatred and vengeance," Vandar said to me, interrupting Vrook. "Yet your power is still weak, limited. Why do you think yourself in any position to dictate demands upon this Council?"

I stared down at Vandar, met his gaze without flinching or turning away. "I am Revan," I declared. "Beyond Jedi or Sith. You know now that I held my subordinates in check, that my path of conquest was guided and reasoned. Malak must be stopped. My fleets must be brought back into my control."

I had to project strength and confidence. I couldn't let on that I actually didn't have a plan any longer. I had to believe it would come back to me in time.

"You would defy the Jedi Order?" Dorak asked.

"I defied you long ago," I reminded him. "And in so doing, saved the Republic from the Mandalorian threat. Why do you find it so hard to trust that what I do is still to protect the galaxy?"

"Because you have been standing before us, seething with hatred and glaring like you plan to _use_ that lightning you wear like a cloak," Vrook said. "When you defied the Council, you set yourself on this path toward darkness, and you have shown no indication of ever leaving it."

Bastila stepped forward, hesitantly, as though afraid equally of myself and of the Council. "We are not faultless," she said quietly. I sensed her own surprise, even as she spoke, but her voice gained in strength as she continued. "The Jedi Order, with the best intentions, have done a grievous wrong to this woman. Are you now to compound it? To force her life into the path of your choosing? This is not the Jedi way."

She turned to me. "I do not agree with everything you have said and done, but I know your heart. You stand at the center of everything, a step in the wrong way, a push at the wrong moment, and you could be truly lost to darkness. You say again and again that you will not fall, and I. . . I find myself believing that you may yet stand strong. I felt your turmoil and pain, it brought me here against protocol, against my better judgment."

Bastila barely paused for breath, facing the council again. "I trust this woman with my life. She has much to learn, but so do we all. Not even the greatest master can claim perfection. And I would not see the Jedi Order be that which pushes her into darkness. Trust me, if you cannot bring yourself to trust her."

I took an exultant breath, tears of emotion gathering in my eyes as I stared with joyful amazement at the young woman who dared stand by my side in defiance of the entire Council. And she did so without the benefit of rage lending her immunity to their intimidating status, without the knowledge of once having held the fate of the galaxy in the balance as I did.

She smiled back at me, a hesitant smile, but one which I felt deeply within her as pure honest respect. In that moment, I didn't care what the Council said or did. Bastila stood with me, and so all was right with the world.


	22. Return: Part 3

"Why did you call me 'Second Sister'?" Bastila asked. The Council had sent us away, convening to discuss the matter of my demands, but I felt confident they wouldn't choose to oppose me. I was still their best hope for defeating Malak, and with Bastila on my side they had little recourse.

So quickly the tides turned, I thought with that exultant joy still blazing within my chest. For all the legend of Revan, Bastila held just as much influence within the Order. Probably more.

"And, isn't the 'Revanite Order' a little arrogant even for you?" she continued.

I shrugged. "What should we be called? The Dark Grey Force Wielders? The Order of Ascendant Power?" I made a sound of mock disgust. "No, I like the sound of Revanites. It flows well, is memorable, and can leverage all my prestige and power long after my own death."

"Second Sister?" she reminded.

"Well, the First Sister is. . ." I stopped, not sure where I was going. It felt right, but I couldn't explain why or who. I shrugged again. "Taken. First Sister is someone else. So, as the first new adherent to my order, you'll be my Second Sister."

"It sounds a little strange," Bastila said. "Also, I have never agreed to actually _join_ your 'Revanite Order'."

"You can't stand up to the Jedi like that and then refuse to join me," I insisted playfully. "I would be offended."

"You're too happy to be offended," she retorted. Her own emotions, though tinted with the giddy pleasure that overflowed from me, were heavy with conflict. She still hardly believed what she'd done, standing up to the order for _me_ , and part of her wanted to take it back and run away from me as far as she could go.

Fortunately, the larger part of her seemed at least resigned, if not exactly pleased, with the outcome. She worried for me. Could sense clearly enough that if it came to a straight confrontation between me and the Jedi I would dive headfirst into whatever darkness gave me the strength to refuse them with no thought for the consequences to myself or others. And that would destroy her as much as it would me. Like it or no, she knew my destiny and hers were unbreakably entwined together.

The Jedi would let us go. They had no other choice. We were destined to defeat Malak, even they could sense that. And with me fully aware that I'm Revan, I could leverage that knowledge against our enemies. Malak thought he was hunting Bastila and I, but in truth we would be hunting him. Together.

I wanted to stop by the Archives before we departed, see if I could find any more Force techniques that I had overlooked in my former visits. I had the distinctive feeling that once we left Dantooine, we would probably not be welcomed back again. My defiance may slide by this time, but once the Council has time to think calmly and plan. . .

Once we departed Dantooine this time, I had no intention of returning again until I was strong enough to enforce my demands beyond any resistance.

* * *

"Let's go deal with those settlers and their silly feud," I told Canderous, still riding the emotional height of my confrontation with the Council. I hadn't revealed my revelation to the rest of the team yet, mostly because I was still processing it myself.

I was Revan himself. Well, herself - I had to get that silly masculine assumption out of my mind. It was probably another part of the Jedi's manipulations, to keep me from guessing the truth. But _Revan!_ The hero, the conqueror, the legend among Jedi and Sith alike. Me!

I hadn't really felt that important before now. As a smuggler, even as a Jedi learner, I'd known I had a destiny, but it hadn't been completely comfortable. As though at odds with my persona, trying to fit pieces of separate sized puzzles together. Now, my grand destiny fit seamlessly within my soul, the truth of who I was wrapping it close.

"I'm _Revan!_ " I exclaimed, all but jumping up and down, unable to restrain the sudden burst of joy.

(And I thought my emotions were unstable _before_ this revelation.)

Canderous looked at me strangely, then smiled slowly. "I knew there was a reason I followed you. You were the reason my people were defeated, you were the one warrior the Republic could boast who could match and overmatch the Mandalorians." He nodded respectfully. "I am proud to follow you, Revan. I know you will lead me to worthy opponents."

"Do you think I should tell Onasi?" I asked, suddenly worried. "He probably hates me! Oh karabast. . . he probably thinks I'm a monster. Stupid Malak and his stupid Saul Kareth. Ruining my reputation!"

I took a breath, brought my emotions in check. I was acting foolish, drunk on emotional energy and behaving like a child. _Focused passion. Not the stony emotionlessness of the Jedi. Not the uncontrolled instincts of the Sith. Darkness tempered by peace, channeled through purpose. . ._

I needed a new code.

"Peace is a shield, passion is strength," I murmured, testing out the rhythm. "Power through knowledge. . ." I couldn't think what to finish the line with. "Serenity something? No. That seems to weight it more heavily toward the Jedi, but there's only so many times I can use 'strength' and 'power' without it sounding repetitive."

Canderous walked by my side without comment. I supposed he probably had no interest whatsoever in any code for adherents of the Force.

"Or, I could change the flow of it around a bit. 'Passion with serenity, knowledge with power. Strength with Harmony, Peace with Victory. Then I suppose I need 'the Force is my. . .' something. Though, is that a bit pathetic, just combining the existing codes? I should probably find my own words?"

I shrugged and put the matter aside for now, my concern evaporating in the face of the untempered exuberance that I couldn't shake. Not that I tried particularly hard. I knew the truth about myself, everything finally made sense. I had some minor missions to finish out on the plains, and I may as well do so while supercharged with energy and focused power. I could still feel sparks waiting in my hands, if any kath hounds dared to cross us on this trip they would soon learn their folly.

* * *

With Juhani 'returned to the Light' and no longer actively corrupting the Dantooinian wildlife, our trip to the Matale manor was practically uneventful. The welcome droid, which I recognized from my former trip past here, was much more helpful this time once I explained that the Jedi Council had sent us to investigate Shen Matale's disappearance.

"So, you're here on behalf of the Council. I was starting to think they'd ignored my demands again. Though your time would be better spent investigating those Sandrals."

Ahlan Matale was just as loud and annoying as he'd been in the morning, and if possible even more arrogant and self-confident now that he was in his own home territory.

I smiled at him, not in a friendly way. "Any information you might have would be helpful. Have you seen anyone suspicious in the area? Any strangers been hanging around?"

"Yes, Sandral droids. My defences took care of them, of course, it wouldn't do to allow them to assassinate me or spy on me or carry out whatever their nefarious plans were. And shortly after that my only son disappeared. Shen has obviously been kidnapped by Nurik, that unscrupulous Sandral leader, in retaliation for his droids!"

"You and the Sandrals hate each other so much?"

"They have been a plague upon our house since they arrived on Dantooine! Your council knows well our many grievances against them. Why do you insist on stalling? The life of my son is at stake! Is it possible. . ." Ahlan hesitated, then narrowed his eyes at me just slightly. "Ah, I understand. Jedi, if you are able to rescue Shen from the Sandrals I will gladly make a. . . contribution to the Jedi cause of 1000 credits. I will present them directly to you, and whether the Council ever learns of this 'donation' is up to your discretion."

"Make it two thousand and you have a deal," I said. Smuggler habits die hard, even if I never was an actual smuggler. You never _ever_ accept a first offer at the stated price. If you don't at least _try_ to bargain for a better offer, who knows what you might be missing out on?

Ahlan snorted. "Out of the question. Your greed is outstripped only by your utter lack of any sense of proportion, Jedi. Nevertheless, my offer stands. A thousand credits for Shen's safe return. Don't delay too long, eventually I will take whatever action is needed to rescue my son, including razing the entire Sandral estate to the ground!"

Ahlan's attitude was quickly draining away any residual euphoria from my revelation and confrontation with the Council. "I'll see what I can do," I told him, then departed as rapidly as propriety allowed.

Some distance away, parked near an overhang, I noticed a large speeder. Not the type the farmers used, too far from the Matale home to be in storage and too close to be in use. Sandral? Or, perhaps, Zuulan?

I brought out my Genoharadan datapad, careful to keep it angled away from Canderous. He wasn't watching me specifically, standing by my side and checking the surroundings constantly in case of an ambush, but I wasn't going to take unnecessary chances. From what Hulas had said, this would prove quite profitable.

Zuulan Sentar, Gran slaver. Last seen near Dantooine estates. Looking for leverage on certain nobles, to obtain dangerous political information that he could use for blackmail. And known to possess a speeder, which happens to be the same model and colour as this one parked suspiciously in the shadow.

"Let's see what we can do about that," I said quietly, jogging over to the speeder. It wasn't difficult to set off the silent alarm signal, alerting Zuulan that someone was trying to steal his vehicle. If that didn't bring him running, I didn't know what would. I hopped up onto the hood and watched the plains for anyone approaching.

I paused then, as I sat on a slaver's speeder waiting for his return. I was _Darth Revan_ , hero of the Republic, destined to destroy Darth Malak and reclaim my galaxy. Why was I working day-to-day to solve everyone else's problems? Why was I bothering trying to get a few more credits out of a worthless noble?

Habit. _Smuggler_ habit, take whatever job is offered and get as much out of it as you can.

Knowledge would only go so far. I knew I was Revan. I knew I was not the smuggler any more, never had been. But still, my every instinct, every habit I had could be traced back to that faint history that the Jedi Council had imprinted, the only history I could remember. Revan's life was lost to me, probably forever, except for the brief vivid flashes of memory that Bastila and I could access when meditating or sleeping.

I growled quietly. Until I could remember my great plan to save the galaxy, until I actually held the power to destroy Malak and his followers, I had basically two choices. I could keep using the persona the Jedi had given me, or I could try to reclaim my original identity.

One day, I would retake that mantle. Right now, though, I didn't _feel_ like Revan. The burst of energy and giddiness had worn off, leaving me with two half-remembered lives that didn't fit together. My lost identity as Revan, that fit. In my thoughts, in my soul, in my heart. Revan and Bastila, saving the galaxy.

Then there was me. R. The smuggler. On any world, any time, taking any job offered. Weaseling a few extra credits out of my employers and moving on to the next planet. My current objectives were to find Star Maps to the Star Forge, convince Bastila and Juhani to trust themselves more than the Jedi, assassinate assorted targets for the Genoharadan, and destroy Malak and Saul Kareth.

I wanted to slam my head into a wall. Learning the truth hadn't solved everything. It relieved the pent-up fury against my inability to remember, left me with a complete picture of my own internal identity, only it was one with inconsistencies and overlap. I was better off, certainly. Knowing our dreams were true memories would help. In time, I probably would regain at least a modicum of my former self. I certainly was connecting to the Force better than an untrained smuggler ever could.

But for now, I struggled in a void between selves. It was so easy to _think_ , 'of course I'm Revan' and feel the rightness of that. Not so easy changing my everyday behavior, breaking habits from the only past I could recall.

"What am I doing?" I asked aloud. "Doesn't Revan have better things to do than hunt down missing children?"

"There's good money in seeing Shen Matale home safely," Canderous replied. "Does Revan have something against profit?"

I shook my head instinctively, then added quietly, "I don't know what Revan is like at all."

"I never met you before Taris," Canderous said, "but we Mandalores fought against the fleet under your direct command. You were a brilliant strategist and military leader, deceptive and cunning."

I found myself nodding. In my smuggler-imprint life I'd been a strategist as well, the planner of the duo. Then I snorted into my hand before laughing uproariously.

"I had a partner," I choked out, almost falling from the speeder. "A musclebound idiot who betrayed me. That must have been representative of Malak! Hah! And I thought the Jedi Council didn't have a sense of humor."

"You still need time to adapt," Canderous said, "but I believe that you will find there's more Revan left than you can see right now. I've seen the way you direct even a small-scale combat, your mind works fast and clearly. You may have lost your _memories_ , but you haven't lost your _self_."

I nodded slowly, then impulsively jumped down from the speeder and hugged him. He was much taller than me, making me feel almost like a child, and he didn't react beyond a quiet surprised 'hm' sound. I released him and stepped back.

"Thank you, Canderous."

"So," an unfamiliar voice interjected. "Who dares tamper with Zuulan's speeder?"

Gran. I turned, bringing my lightsabers into line and glowering at him and the pair of droids flanking him. "I am Darth Revan, and you have gone too far, Zuulan!"

He stared in confusion for a moment, took a half step back. "Is this a human joke thing now? Hold people up for credits by such a name?"

"No, I really truly am the fallen Dark Lord, reborn to rise from the ashes of my own demise like a mythological creature that may not exist in _this_ galaxy, but—"

"Calm down, Revan," Canderous said, putting a hand on my arm. "Who is this person?"

"A slaver, threatening the Republic with his blackmail and trying to uncover secrets better left hidden."

"I not know where you get your information, but you wrong. Zuulan just here to relax on Dantooine plains!"

"I don't believe you. Time to pay for your crimes!" I brought lightning to bear, flicking out to blast the droids. They shorted out, went down.

Before I could finish him, Zuulan backed away another step, holding his hands out placatingly. "Stop, stop! Zuulan pay you, yes? You take 200 credits and let Zuulan live. Fair!"

"It seems to me that once you're dead, that will be mine anyway. And the world will have one fewer slaver scum making life dangerous for the weak."

"Then Zuulan die fighting, like a warrior!"

I couldn't exactly stop him from trying, for all the good it did him. He fired, I deflected, and I brought my lightning around at full strength.

"If you call that 'like a warrior,' then it's no wonder the Gran never conquered anything," I taunted as he collapsed to the ground.

I laughed, returned my sabers to my belt, and dusted myself off.

" _Did_ the Gran ever conquer anything? I don't actually know." I paused, realized I didn't actually _care_ either. "Well, time to speak to the Sandrals then, eh?"


	23. Return: Part 4

Canderous and I headed back out into the plains, heading generally southish, but before locating the Sandral manor we came upon a pack of kath hounds clustered around a body.

"I thought they'd stopped attacking people," I mused, as we charged in at them. These were indeed left from before. I could still sense Juhani's dark, confused presence imprinted on their thoughts and overriding their instincts for anything but attack.

I smiled, bringing the Force into attack focus with hardly a thought as the violent creatures rose to attack us.

Lightning solves _so_ many problems.

"Hm, amateur archaeologist," I mumbled, looking over the dead settler's possessions. "Even kept a diary, he was studying the ancient ruins that I visited with Bastila. And with Malak, I suppose. Rak, what a strange word. Perhaps the Rak are the Builders?"

Canderous shrugged, and I remembered that he didn't know anything about the trip to the ruins.

"Yeah, pretty uninteresting. Still, at least. . . 'Casus Sandral' had some unique theories."

"Sandral again?" Canderous asked.

"Yeah, I wonder what the relation is. Though I gather there are a considerable number of 'Sandral' and 'Matale' members around. We should ask. . . what was his name again?"

"Nurik, their 'unscrupulous' leader, if Ahlan is to be believed." Canderous supplied.

"Yeah, we should ask Nurik about it. After we find out if they had anything to do at all with Shen's disappearance."

We passed Juhani's grove, the Mandalorian camp, and the crystal caves before finally arriving at the Sandral estate. The droid at the door sent us in to the front room to speak to Nurik.

"You wished to speak with me?" Nurik asked.

"We're here on behalf of the Jedi Council, investigating the disappearance of Shen Matale." I told him.

"I moved here for some peace and privacy, not to be harassed like common criminals. Your Council has no authority here, so I respectfully ask you to leave my property at once. I trust you can show yourselves out, if not my protocol droids will be sure to deal with you." Nurik said, turning away and stalking off.

"He's definitely hiding something," Canderous said as the inner door closed behind Nurik. "I don't trust that man."

"I could lightsaber my way in," I said, glancing at the guard droids. "Though that would cause a serious ruckus."

"Wait, someone's coming," Canderous said.

A young woman entered through the inner door, looking concerned and nervous. "You are here from the Council? Looking for Shen Matale?"

"Do you know something about Shen's disappearance?" I asked.

"My name is Rahasia, Nurik is my father. He has not been himself since Casus disappeared."

"Casus?" I interrupted. "We found a dead archaeologist with a journal, Casus Sandral. He is. . .?"

"My brother," Rahasia said. "So he is dead. I hope. . . this was not the work of the Matale family?"

"No, it was more of those crazy kath hounds. I dealt with them, but it was far too late for Casus."

"I am glad to hear the Matales were not to blame. But it will not convince my father, I'm afraid. He is mad with grief and has convinced himself his rival is to blame. He is not thinking rationally, but he is a good man. Please don't judge him too harshly."

"I just want to find Shen," I told her.

She hesitated. "You must understand, Father has been under terrible strain. I don't wish to disobey him, but his authority is not absolute in all matters."

"Quit stalling, get to the point."

"My father has kidnapped Shen Matale," Rahasia admitted. "He is holding him prisoner here, to get back at the Matales for the disappearance of my brother. By now, he doesn't even care if the Matales are responsible. Even when I tell him it was not their fault, I know he will refuse to release Shen. And I'm afraid he may even kill Shen out of a mad, misguided lust for vengeance."

"And you're telling me all this why?" I asked. She was clearly distraught, but going against her father when he was obviously out of his mind seemed dangerous enough. Why was she risking so much?

"Shen is an innocent victim in all this. My father isn't a bad man, but his grief has driven him to madness. He must be stopped. Please, take this key to the back door, find Shen and get him to safety before my father does something he will regret forever."

"If I break in, it will cause a considerable disruption to your estate. There will probably be no guard droids left, and I can't promise your belongings will remain intact in the ruckus. Do you really understand what you're asking for?"

"Casus is dead, and letting my father kill Shen Matale in retaliation will set our families in a feud that will never end. Whatever it takes, I want you to rescue Shen and get him to safety."

"You care that much?" I asked, surprised. If as Nurik had said the Council had no authority here, I could be causing serious problems for the Jedi by breaking in and smashing stuff to get Shen free. But, Nurik was a kidnapper, and I had his daughter and heir's permission to do so. And, I was going to be leaving Dantooine for good soon enough, it's not like it would bother _me_.

"I know our families are meant to be great rivals," Rahasia replied, "but I met Shen in the market one day away from his father, and he was so charming. We talked and met again, over the months, and. . . we've fallen in love. Casus met him too, and they were starting to become friends, but then he disappeared and this whole mess had to happen. Please find Shen and free him. You are my only hope!"

* * *

The assault on Sandral Manor was a tedious one. My lightning completely annihilated the droids, and they were the only opposition we faced. Rahasia hadn't provided us with a map, so we wandered about the manor until stumbling upon her bedroom. She repeated her pleas for us to rescue her beloved Shen.

By the time we found the room Shen had been imprisoned in, I'd taken to smashing open any door we found locked. I could have tried being more subtle, but I was impatient and didn't particularly want Nurik to come investigate the chaos. That would lead to a probably disastrous confrontation.

"Who are you, what do you want with me? Are you working with my father?" the young man asked, the moment the door opened.

"Shen Matale, I presume? We're here to rescue you."

Shen backed away a step. "Rescue me? No, I won't leave. It's too dangerous."

I shook my head at him. "I've destroyed every war droid in the place, there's nothing in the way. You have a clear path out of here."

"Nurik's daughter Rahasia has been trying to convince him to release me ever since I was captured. If I escape, Nurik will thing she's to blame, and she's the one who will suffer for it. I can't allow that."

I scoffed. "You think Nurik will blame Rahasia for the _lightsaber marks_ on his doors and droids? You think that when a Jedi comes snooping around, and then _immediately afterward_ his house is broken into, smashed up, and his prisoner gone, he'll assume his _daughter_ is to blame?"

Shen shook his head stubbornly. "Nurik is insane with grief over losing his son Casus, and will not be thinking rationally. I won't leave her to face his wrath. I'd rather die."

"Really? You'd rather _die_? I think you're in no proper emotional state to be making that kind of decision."

"If you can convince Rahasia to run away with me, then I'll go. Otherwise, there's nothing you can do to make me leave."

I was tempted to take him up on that offer. He was obviously strong enough of will that a simple mind trick wouldn't work, but if I choked him into submission and then used the Force to levitate and push him ahead of me. . .

But, no. That might harm him too much, and I still wanted Ahlan's thousand credits. That kind of money would come in handy in my quest to retake the galaxy.

"You do realize this ridiculous romance of yours is doomed?" I asked.

"I'm not leaving without her, whatever you say."

"I'll talk to Rahasia," I said. "But this is a terrible way to start a life. If the pair of you run off, alienating both your families, you'll have only each other. And when life gets hard, and it _will_ get hard, you'll wish you'd found a way to make peace rather than arrogantly insisting on getting your own childish way."

Shen ignored me pointedly.

I sighed. "Children are fools."

We returned to Rahasia's bedroom, and she agreed to meet Shen outside the estate. She didn't want the hall security cameras to show her leaving _with_ him.

I shook my head at her paranoia; she kept acting like she believed she'd be staying here, while trying to say that she would be leaving with Shen. The disconnect between her warring beliefs made me even more certain that breaking away from her family would only bring them misery in the future. Once their crush wore off, once they came to realize all they'd given up, it was inevitable that they would end up blaming each other.

If they could find a way to continue their relationship without estranging their families, they might be able to find happiness together. Or, more likely, they'd realize soon enough that their relationship was just built on the allure of the forbidden, and find happiness with others.

We brought Shen out, just in time to see Ahlan coming up with a droid escort. Nurik wasn't far either, exiting from the main house with his own droids. Though where he was keeping _those_ I couldn't have guessed. I certainly smashed or fried every guard droid I'd seen. He must have had an underground saferoom or something.

They were all surprised to see one another, except Ahlan who seemed quite smug to see his theories borne out in fact.

"I knew this was all your doing," Ahlan boasted to Nurik.

"You took my Casus from me long before," Nurik insisted. "You started it."

"The Matales had nothing to do with Casus," I told him. "He ran afoul of some kath hounds, that's all."

"You kidnapped my son with absolutely no cause!" Ahlan declared. "Now I will get revenge for your transgressions."

"You both need to calm down," I tried to interject, but the house heads seemed to pay no attention.

"Please, listen to her, father," Shen said.

"All you want is to remain with that Sandral harlot," Ahlan said. "Why should I listen to any of you?"

"My daughter is not a harlot, Matale dog!" Nurik retorted.

"You can sort this out together," I insisted.

"We are trying to be reasonable here, of course, but our children are being so stubborn," Nurik said.

"If Shen would just understand that he has to do as I say," Ahlan said, "this would all be solved so easily. You know what you're getting yourself into, Shen? Is causing a war between our families really what you want to do?"

"No, but I want Rahasia," Shen insisted.

"You can't have her," Nurik shouted. "I'll fight to keep her from _you_."

"Don't do anything rash," I said, still trying to maintain a calm atmosphere. If anyone started shooting, as entertaining as the spectacle would be, I doubted any reward would be forthcoming.

"Do listen to someone wiser than yourself for once, Shen," Ahlan said. "Don't turn this into a war."

"I suppose I should have seen it from the beginning," Shen said reluctantly. "Our hopeless romance would be doomed to failure."

"Please, Shen, it doesn't have to be this way," Rahasia called out desperately.

"Yes, it does. Our families are too different, it would never work."

"Shen, no! I love you!"

"Don't say that, Rahasia. We need to be calm, rational. We both know it wouldn't work. Let's not get emotional and end up hating each other."

I sighed with relief. "I'm proud of you, Shen," I told him. "The strength of character to make hard decisions like this shows that you will be a strong and wise man very soon."

"I thank you for showing me what I had to do," Shen said, inclining his head politely. "Come, father. Let's return home."

Ahlan stepped forward to shake my hand and pass over the thousand credits, then turned with his son and droid escort to leave.

Rahasia screamed denial, then broke down sobbing on her father's shoulder.

Ahlan turned back. "And don't think this is over, Sandrals. I haven't forgotten what you did. I will take this affront directly before the Jedi Council and see you exiled from this planet."

Nurik glared at his rival, then put his arm around his daughter. "Come inside, Rahasia. Let's get the stink of that Matale dog off you."

I tucked the credits into my belt, smiled at Canderous. "I think that concludes our business on Dantooine, eh? Let's just check the archives for any high-level attack Force powers, in case there's anything there, and then head back to Manaan."

* * *

The return trip across the plains was uneventful. We'd taken out enough of Juhani's corrupted kath hounds that there remained little wildlife that would dare attack us, and the sentient foes were either dead or giving us a wide berth.

While we walked, Canderous told me about his youth as a Mandalore warrior, dropping from orbit on a war-droid to fly over the target planet and destroy the defences ahead of his people's main attack wave.

He made it sound thrilling, enough so that I almost mourned that I'd annihilated enough Mandalorians that they'd probably never have the numbers to resume their old traditions again.

We reached the Enclave, where I could sense the Jedi Council still in discussion. Something about the way the Force moved around them, even from so far away, made me increasingly certain they were still discussing me, and not in a friendly way.

"We can't stay," I realized. "They're recovering from the shock, they'll want to retrain me. Or worse. And I won't let them."

I walked right past the passage down to the library, toward the Ebon Hawk.

The Council sensed my presence, my course. I could feel the moment they chose to stop me, their intention amplified in my direction.

I could feel Bastila's awareness as she noticed me sensing them, and immediately the bond was flooded with her disappointment at the masters' decision. She silently called to me on from the ship, urging me to hurry.

"Run," I told Canderous, and took off up the corridor. We passed the Council chambers just as Vrook strode out purposefully.

"Stop, Revan, we must speak with you before you leave," he ordered, reaching toward me with the Force.

I spun, pushed the Force back toward him with the full strength of my fear. I was no match for the Council, I knew. But until that moment I hadn't fully realized how deeply terrified I was of falling under their control - anyone's control - again.

My fear and rage was enough to disrupt Vrook's attempt at holding me, my push even staggered him slightly before he pulled the Force around himself to shield him from any further attacks.

I had no intention of standing to fight. I knew I was overmatched. I was back to running for the _Ebon Hawk_ before he recovered his balance.

 _Bastila!_ I shouted through our bond, desperately hoping the words would transmit clearly. _Ready the ship! Have Onasi ready to take off the second we're aboard._

I felt her surge of agreement, managed a brief smile. Adrenaline drove me faster, my pulse racing, breath coming fast. I nearly overtook Canderous as we reached the landing area and ran toward the ship.

"Wait, come back here, fool!" Vrook demanded behind me, but I had no interest in anything he or the Council might have to say. "You need our help!"

We reached the ramp and raced up it, the ramp closing the same moment that the ship lifted off and spun to face away. The ship lurched, slowed, Vrook trying to stop us with the Force. But it was too little, too late. We regained speed as we moved farther from his range.

My last sight of Dantooine was Vrook, hands futilely outstretched to hold us back as the ramp sealed behind me. I could sense the rest of the Council joining him, but by then we were too far for even their combined strength to reach us on time.

Then we cleared the atmosphere and leapt into hyperspace.

* * *

 _Revan,_ I thought, the name causing me no distress. No hatred, no fury. Just a quiet sense of loss, and an unrelenting eagerness. I would reclaim everything I had once ruled, and then some. I would rebuild my empire, retake my galaxy, and rediscover my plan for the future. Not as the Jedi Revan, nor any longer as the sith Darth Revan.

Just as myself.

"Look out galaxy," I whispered to the hyperspace blur outside the windows. "Revan is coming home."


	24. Manaan: Part 2

_"I have a plan," I told her, reluctantly. I knew we could win this war decisively. But. . . "It will be dangerous. It will cost our forces more than I should ever ask of another, and you especially will bear its weight. Perhaps even for the rest of your life. But I cannot do it myself, and you are the strongest of us."_

 _"Will it be worth it?" she asked._

 _"You know I wouldn't ask if I didn't believe it would be, but there's no guarantee of success."_

 _She peered into my eyes, gave a small nod._

 _"Tell me."_

* * *

"Roland Wann says he knows about some ancient ruins on the ocean floor," Mission reported as we neared Manaan's landing port for the second time. "Unfortunately, he's also a 'do something for me before I'll even think about helping you' type."

"So what does he demand of us in return for his help?" I asked, briefly wondering how well his mind would hold up to my Force-based persuasion, but decided a Republic officer on a world where Sith roamed freely would necessarily need to be strong willed or he wouldn't have lasted long.

"Something about a droid core the Sith have at their base." Mission said. "I think it's evidence that could put the Republic on bad terms with the Selkath. If we retrieve it for him, he'll lend us a submarine. We'll have to go through the haunted station they set up down there, not that they set it up to be haunted, but no one who's gone down has come back alive. I told him it wouldn't be a problem."

I grinned. "Good girl. Haunted or no, we'll make it through."

My grin faded as I considered the first half of the agreement, breaking into the Sith base on a securely neutral world. If the Selkath caught us. . . then it might be bad for the Republic. I shrugged. At this point, I didn't care what the Republic said or did or if they were kicked off Manaan.

But, if the _Sith_ caught us, the consequences would be much more severe. I considered Bastila, currently in a meditative state, the Sith's most wanted fugitive. I considered myself, Darth Revan. Malak surely knew I was alive by now, I'd hardly been cautious to keep my likeness hidden during our trip to Tatooine, and the Sith had found us anyway. My old apprentice would want to finish what he'd started, get me out of the way before I regained my strength properly.

Even myself entering the Sith Base would be dangerous. I couldn't bring Bastila with me here any more than I could have back on Taris.

I considered Juhani as I flew the _Ebon Hawk_ in to the designated landing bay. She was young, uncompleted. But somehow I didn't think bringing her with us would be a good idea either. As much as I'd have liked having a Jedi healer along, the fewer Force-users we took into that Sith base the more chance we had of evading notice.

The notoriety also ruled out Onasi. The Sith would recognize him in an instant.

So, that left me with Canderous, Z, and T3 as my infiltration team. A Mandalorian, a wookiee, and a droid. I chuckled to myself. Not long ago, I'd have considered that one of the weakest and most pathetic groups to roam the galaxy. Now I had come to understand their strengths and not just their weaknesses. They would serve me well in this.

Remembering something, I hurried to the cargo hold as soon as we were settled properly on the pad. I rummaged through the ever-growing pile of loot, found the blades I wanted, and brought them to the workshop room.

"Canderous, I have something I've been meaning to give you," I said, holding out the Sanasiki vibroblade. "I upgraded it to modern specs and beyond, for a non-lightsaber you'd be hard pressed to find better."

He smiled, narrowed his eyes. "And what makes you think I could handle a blade? I've always used my repeater."

"We're going up against Sith on this mission, and probably Sith with _lightsabers_ ," I said. "Blaster bolts will only be a liability to our side. Besides, you don't get muscles like _those_ by just carrying around a big gun. You're a fighter, and not just a ranged fighter."

He laughed, a beautiful gruff deep laugh. "Heh, can't keep secrets from you, Revan."

I brought out the second blade, the prototype I'd cobbled together during the adventures on Taris. "This should do for an off-hand blade until we find something better."

He took both blades, settled into a balanced stance, and ran through some familiar two-blade forms. "These will do nicely," he said, tapping them to his belt. I blinked, realized he'd always had spaces there for blades. The little clasps clicked shut just below the guard, holding them securely enough to not fall or wobble dangerously, but loosely enough that a quick motion would bring the blades free without delay.

Heavy repeater on his back, dual blades at his waist, Canderous looked as dangerous as anyone I'd ever met.

I smiled and nodded approvingly. "Get ready, we'll be assaulting a Sith base and we won't have Jedi backup."

He raised his eyebrows at me.

"I'm not backup," I said, and brought lightning playing between my fingers and crackling up my arms in readiness. "I'm the first strike. I don't have any healing abilities to speak of, I pretty much skipped that part of training to focus on assault. Get Z and T3 ready to go, we'll be moving out as soon as possible."

"Understood."

I left them to their preparations, headed to Mission's room at the back of the ship. "Got our access ready?" I asked.

"Almost," she said, not looking up from her work. She had a generic access card on the table in front of her and was painstakingly inscribing data on it with a custom device I'd never seen the likes of before. The bulky rectangular pyramid of cobbled together parts and electronics was probably another of her unique tricks. Though it looked like a prop from a low-budget holovid.

"There, got it." She turned off the device and tapped the card a couple times on the table to dislodge any residual dust or shards, blew it off, and turned to me with a wide smile. "This will get us into the private Sith hangar. It's just down the hall from us, two bays away. From there, we can get into their base from the back and they'll never know it's us until we're pointing a gun in their face. Or, I guess a lightsaber in your case."

"Just what I needed," I told her, holding out a hand for the keycard. "Work on Kashyyyk next, I'd like to be a bit stronger before we venture to Korriban."

Her grin faded. "I'm not coming with you?" she asked, obviously disappointed.

I snorted. "Stick to what you're best at, Mission," I told her. "Information, communication, and technology. What's needed in the Sith base is speed, strength, and luck. We'll probably face more than a few Dark Jedi there, if we're not extremely fortunate, and it is no place for a hacker. T3 will get us in and out of any door they have, you get everything ready so when we return we can head right to the next objective."

She nodded glumly. "Alright, you're the boss."

I hesitated, glanced behind me. "There's something you should know," I said, my voice lowered. "I haven't found the right way to tell everyone yet, so please don't mention it to the others until I bring it up again. Can you do that?"

"Yeah, I'm good at keeping secrets," she said.

I took a breath. This would be the first true risk. Bastila had already known, and Canderous respected me before he ever met me. Mission though would be an average, generally 'good' citizen of the Republic, and my reputation was far from pretty.

"While we were on Dantooine, I learned something. You know the Jedi have us following the path of Revan and Malak? Well, the only reason they can do that is because they captured Revan."

She gasped. "Revan is still alive?"

I laughed humorlessly. "More than that. They rewrote the Dark Lord with a false identity, so she would believe herself loyal to the Republic."

"She? I thought Revan was. . ." she looked up at me, barely taller than her, my dark robes, my lightsaber hilts. "It can't be."

"I never wanted to deceive anyone as to my identity. I'm still coming to terms with it myself. But I am Revan, broken and reborn, but Revan nonetheless."

"How much do you remember about being him. . . Revan, I mean."

"Her. Revan was always a woman, but leaving the truth unclear added to her mystique. My. . ." I shook my head, refocused on the actual question. "I barely remember anything. Training with the Jedi is probably my clearest memory, though it's hard to tell whether those memories are truly mine, as Revan, or Bastila's."

"Why would they be Bastila's memories?" Mission asked.

I shrugged. "It's hard to explain. She was there when Malak betrayed me, when the Jedi attacked my ship. She guarded my life with her power, while at the same time I protected her with my power, at the exact moment when Malak tried to destroy us all. That melding of power somehow linked us, mind and soul. She and I are stronger together, weaker apart."

And I had to do this without her, without Juhani. We'd barely survived our last encounter with Dark Jedi, and here I was charging in with only Z and Canderous for backup. _That arrogance will get me killed one of these days, if I'm not more careful,_ I thought, but now wasn't the time for caution.

Mission blinked. Then shrugged. "Well, if you don't really remember being Revan, than it's not really a problem. I know you well enough to see that you can be trusted, whatever you were called in the past. Just maybe try backing off on the threats of violence to your friends?"

"Thank you, Mission, your advice is noted." I said it sarcastically, but smiled with genuine relief. "Now, Kashyyyk."

"As you wish, Lord Revan," she grumbled. I smiled and left.

* * *

There were only a handful of soldiers guarding the ship in the Sith hangar, and between the three of us they were hardly a challenge. T3 waited until we'd cleared out the fighters, then rewrote the ship's security systems to black out any cameras the Sith may have monitoring the transport. It wouldn't do to give them advance notice of our impending arrival.

The ship had an autopilot for several nearby areas, the Sith base among them. I grinned at Canderous and engaged the course.

"You ready to smash some Sith heads?"

"Always," he said, hands resting with casual ease on the vibroblade hilts.

The ship came to a landing within minutes, the Ahto City platform wasn't particularly large. We disembarked in an empty hangar, slipped out through the airlock and into the sith base proper. I started forward, then held up a hand. A mine lay directly in our path. I knelt down near it, but out of its blast radius, and set about dismantling it with the Force, then picked it up.

"You never know when you need a mine," I said, tucking it in my pack for later use, or selling. _Smuggler habit, still_?

I shook my head, suddenly irritated, but led the way through the halls. I had no idea where we were going, but I sensed comfortably controlled Force strength beyond the first door we reached. Dark Jedi, I assumed, and three of them.

"You guys ready to take on a few Sith?" I asked.

Canderous and Z drew their dual vibroblades, and T3 backed up and took up a position a safe distance away.

I smiled and opened the door.

They were waiting for us. They must have sensed me even as I sensed them, because their first move was to freeze me in stasis and throw me backwards and away. I slid back with the force of their push, ended against the nearest wall and stood there, unable to move, my lightsabers crossed far too close to my own chest for comfort.

I would have growled angrily, had I not been barely able to breathe.

Canderous and Z accounted for themselves moderately better. Canderous, an intimidating Mandalorian, took the worst of their Force attacks. A master-apprentice duo took turns pushing him away, knocking him down and keeping him off balance, but he got in a few attacks between. Z fared better still, engaging in a one-on-one duel with the other sith and resisting the attempts at pushing with his sheer mass and balance.

Did I ever say anything unkind about wookiees? I take it all back. Wookiees are sheer blunt force, but when directed by a master strategist like me they become a thing of beauty. I could really use a wookiee army.

The other two sith, their attention focused on Canderous, didn't appear to notice when I finally broke free of their Force stasis. I brought my blades around and attacked them from behind, channeling lightning in a steady blast that filled the room with static and distracted them from Canderous long enough for him to move to the attack.

Pinned between him and I, the pair fought back-to-back, lightsabers spinning and flashing.

I reached out with the Force, grabbed them in crushing power to choke off their breath, and held them for just a few seconds. Canderous took the opening, with speed and strength I'd have expected from a much younger man. A moment later, they weren't even trying to draw breath.

Z had his opponent on the defencive as I turned my attention to our remaining adversary, and a sustained blast of electricity was enough to finish him off.

"We need to find a computer with camera access and a map," I said, collecting the lightsabers and checking the dead Sith for any crystals or other valuables. "T3?"

He came into the room then, connected to the droid port, and did a quick scan of the base network. He shook his head, beeping in the negatory. Whatever security they used on their internal systems, it wasn't something that could be hijacked and read from here without specific access permissions.

"Just keep searching, then," I said. I glanced at the camera in the corner. "So much for stealth. If they have anyone monitoring these at all, we're exposed now. Time to hurry."


	25. Manaan: Part 3

_Author's Note :_ Bonus update for May the Fourth~

 _I have also updated my two other KotOR stories_ _today_ _, Revans Reborn and Double Blind, though the notifications seem to have been eaten by FF._ _I should still be able to get another FWM chapter out Sunday or Monday as regularly_ _-ish_ _scheduled, assuming nothing goes terribly wrong. Thanks for reading!_

* * *

Fortune was with us, as we rushed through the Sith base. Around a corner and down a corridor, we arrived at a reception desk. Occupied, briefly, but a few droids and soldiers were barely enough to slow us down.

T3 connected to the computer, then gave us a detailed route that would lead to the disassembly room where the Republic's stolen droid module was being stored. Retrieving it was simple, guarded only by droids and soldiers again, and we headed back to the hangar.

That's where our luck gave out. The base had been put into a lockdown and the ship we'd arrived on had long since been returned to its hangar of origin.

T3 informed us that the only remaining exit from the base would be the front elevator, leading out to Ahto proper, and the official Sith Embassy location.

That would be hard to explain away. Ahto City's security cameras, even assuming the Sith didn't allow the Selkath access to their internal base security recordings, would clearly place us as leaving the base immediately after the disturbance.

"Is there anywhere in the base not monitored?" I asked.

T3 nodded, beeped out a list of unimportant corridors and top-secret rooms. Most would be either well guarded or too exposed.

I sighed, frustrated. I hadn't come this far to be thwarted by Selkath regulations. We just didn't have enough options. I could dress us as Sith soldiers, try slipping out without being questioned. I could hide us somewhere, try to wait out the alert, watch the hangar for a returning ship.

But the Dark Jedi. The few we'd faced so far had been weak, and even then nearly our match. T3 reported an entire training annex currently sealed off from the main base, but if they were to find us. . .

Without Bastila at my side, I felt distinctly vulnerable. Better to risk the wrath of the Selkath authorities any day.

"Time to walk boldly out the front door, then," I said. "Though this will definitely appear very suspicious."

* * *

Selkath authorities were waiting for us, accompanied by a significant armed retinue. I probably could have fought my way out, but without having found the Star Map yet we couldn't afford to be banished and I had no desire to waste even more time working around such a time-wasting event.

The trial was fairly ridiculous, but I convinced the Selkath that the Sith had been trying to hire me for a mercenary task, and had attacked me when I refused. Well, they didn't exactly believe me, but they did concede that there wasn't enough evidence one way or another to convict me.

That charade over with, we headed to the Republic enclave, getting lost a few times as the platform wasn't exactly simple and straightforward to navigate.

Mission had told Wann to be expecting us at some point, so we were greeted at least with some manner of respect.

I gave him the droid core, and he lent us a submersible to go to the dangerous and recently abandoned and/or haunted 'secret base' the Republic had established outside Selkath laws but with the covert permissions of certain important members of their council.

On the way to the submersible bay, we happened to pass the force cage where they were keeping Lorgal, the rodian terrorist and my other Genoharadan target. I casually manipulated the Force into a slow-acting plague, leaving him to mysteriously sicken and die within a few hours after we were gone.

Or so I hoped. I'd never actually used a Force plague before within actual memory, the action felt more instinctive. Something from my past, then.

I'd just check on him when we returned. If he survived that attempt, we'd just try again.

* * *

I could sense the wrongness the moment we stepped foot onto the underwater base. The area was saturated with fear and a blurred sense of outrage. It seeped into me, the feeling of an angry creature backed into a corner. I wanted to lash out at anyone and everything, fight, run. . .

I shook the thoughts away, centered my power and emotions into conscious control. The atmosphere of the base weighed on me, but could no longer permeate my being.

Canderous didn't seem to notice, but Z started a low growl in his throat, picking up on the instinct for battle.

There wasn't much of use in the arrival area, just the controlled water bays for bringing the submersibles up into the base, walkways between them, and a collapsed beam that had taken a chunk of ceiling with it. Thankfully, it was an inner ceiling, not one that allowed the room to flood. The dripping sounds around the room were the casual dripping of leaking pipes or collected condensation, not the urgent trickle of an actual leak.

The facility seemed to be secure for the moment. The logical assessment did nothing to stop the imagined weight of the ocean from pressing down on my spirit. It wasn't as strong as the general sense of wrongness, but harder to banish. Stemming from nothing I could remember, illogical, and impossible to ignore completely.

This was no different than space flight, really. The protective walls were the same. The waiting death if they failed was no more or less certain. It shouldn't feel different.

I couldn't quite convince myself. Something within me rebelled against the thought of staying underwater for too long, regardless of the relative safety of it.

Canderous opened the wedged-shut door leading out to the base proper, and we were instantly confronted with a terrified mercenary with a gun.

"Who are you, how did you get in here? Did they sent another submersible? We have to leave, quick, we have to get away now!"

"Calm down," I ordered, waving a hand in case it would help. "What happened here?"

"I'm a merc the Republic hired to investigate that, but it's worse than I could have imagined. The Selkath went crazy and started killing everyone that moved! Someone turned on the defence droids too, and. . . well, there are bodies everywhere. The Selkath swarming in the dark. I managed to jam this door, but I don't know how long it'll hold."

"Are you the only survivor?"

He nodded. "The others left without me, tried to escape in the submersible, but there's something out there in the water, something huge. We can't get away without doing something about it first, maybe if we blow up the station it'll distract it long enough, but we can't leave this room or the Selkath will kill us all! We're doomed."

"We have no intention of staying," I told him. "Wait here, we'll be back."

"No! You can't open the door, they'll kill you."

I shrugged, then hesitated. "T3, can you lock down this submersible until we return?"

He beeped affirmative, crossed to the small vehicle and plugged in. A minute later he returned to the tail of our little formation, confirming his success.

"Alright, we're going," I told the mercenary.

"You're all dead!" he shrieked, rushing into the submersible bay to hide behind a pile of supplies.

"Don't get your hopes up too high," Canderous told him as he ran past. "I have no intention of dying."

I laughed. "Good one."

We opened the door and passed through a window-lined connecting corridor to the base proper. It was eerie, silent and dim, running on emergency lights only. We passed mercenaries, workers, and soldiers, all scattered and dead, some looking partly eaten.

My stomach felt tight, the sense of wrongness here only grew stronger. Empty rooms, abandoned to the dead, empty corridors where our footsteps sounded out of place, echoing too far, too loud.

This was not a place to linger.

Some doors were locked. Some were jammed. Some were sealed. The farther into the base we went, the more strange sounds began echoing around the edges of perception. Squeaks, gurgling, hissing. I could almost pretend it was only ventilation, plumbing, and the normal sounds of an empty base.

We opened a door, and suddenly without any warning a half-dozen Selkath were screaming and swarming toward us. They held no weapons, only their hands and their teeth, but we fell back at the surprise assault. They were mindlessly violent, like the kath hounds on Dantooine, but I sensed no darkness around them. No Force at all, apart from that which is shared by all life.

Whatever drove them crazy, it wasn't related to the Force. This was something else.

Their mad rush caught us off guard at first, but Z and Canderous recovered as quickly as I. Six blades flashed and spun as we easily brought the undisciplined attack to its obvious conclusion.

I shuddered. Somehow, the absence of any clear reason for the insanity made it that much more terrifying.

We continued moving, but opened doors with more caution now. Patrol droids weren't a problem, my lightning could shut them down with hardly a thought, but the Selkath survivors were banded in small swarms that always threatened to overwhelm our defences.

If they had _all_ banded together, I believe even we wouldn't have had a chance. But they were separated by doors, and in their current state of mind doors were as immovable as walls.

Several doors later, we found a storage room with a single environment suit and an airlock beyond. A pair of anti-firaxa sonic emitters were stashed by the door.

"Well, looks like I'll be taking a solo jaunt," I said with forced calm. "Clear as much of the base as you can, let me know if you find anything useful."

I slipped into the bulky suit, clipped a sonic emitter to each hand and practiced hitting the switch quickly. I had no idea how much reaction time I'd get if a shark charged me. And I may have been stalling, not wanting to actually go out into the crushing depths alone.

Or at all.

But I couldn't demand this of anyone else on my team, and I was the one with the forgotten memories. If something looked right, familiar, I'd be the only one able to pick up on it.

I held the helmet for a long moment, staring at the airlock door. "Well, off I go. Keep in touch."

I clamped the helmet on and activated the exit sequence, acutely aware of how defenceless I would be. It was slow, painfully slow, moving in this suit even inside the base, once I had the water pressure to contend with there would be no quick or calculated moves. I had the sonic emitters, but against anything but the firaxan they were intend for I'd be easy prey.

I tried not to think about it.

I wandered the flooded portion of the base a while, completely lost. Then I spotted another yellow suited figure in the distance and plodded my slow ponderous way toward it.

"Hello?" I called out, the suit muffling and amplifying my voice.

"Who's there? You're not Selkath, are you another rescue crew?"

"What are you doing out here?" I asked.

"The Selkath were killing everything inside, all my companions are dead, but I found a way to reach the bay and seal off the rest of the base. There's another part of the complex out here, I can reach the emergency override to enter the submarine bay from the outside, without having to get past all the crazy fish-people looking for dinner."

"Do you have an emitter to protect against the firaxan?" I asked. There had been only one enviro suit, but two emitters, so he probably didn't even know about them. I held one hand up to demonstrate.

"No. The suit should protect me, right?"

"They made them for a reason, and there are some pretty big fish out here," I said. It took a minute of fiddling clumsily to get the emitter unlatched, but I finally got it transferred to his suit.

I gave him a quick demonstration to ensure he knew how to use it, then nodded. "Alright, lead on."

He started off, out of the close rooms and onto the ocean floor itself.

My breath caught as we reached the open water. I'd felt pressed on before, just imagining the water above us, but here it was the worst possible combination of seeing too far and being too constricted. I'd never have described the open ocean as claustrophobic before, but the sight of the entire vastness of Manaan's sea spread out around me was too much.

"Come on, hurry up!" the other survivor said, turning to wave a hand toward me. "We need to keep moving, our air won't hold out forever."

I nodded, started toward him, but as I did so a shark swooped in on him from behind.

"Look out!" I screamed, raising my emitter and firing. The firaxa's momentum carried it forward, but it lost speed and drifted upward. It listed to one side, and I sensed that it was actually dead, not just stunned.

"That was too close," the survivor said, shoving the dead shark away with a nervous laugh. "These things sure are bigger up close." He shook his head. "Come on, the other building is this way."

I followed, and we slowly made our way across the ocean floor. We kept close together, watching all directions, and more than a few firaxa tried to eat us. But those emitters worked as well as the memo had claimed, stunning or outright killing any that got too close.

I couldn't help breathing a sigh of relief as we reached the airlock to the other base section. We took off the clumsy suits and I got a look at my new companion for the first time. He was younger than I had guessed from his voice, wearing typical mercenary armor and carrying an assault blaster.

"Stay behind me," I ordered.

He took one glance at the lightsabers on my belt and grinned. "A Jedi! About time the Republic sent someone competent down here. Lead on, ma'am."

I returned the smile. "Just watch my back, and we'll be fine."

Before he could reply our meeting was cut short abruptly as a trio of hissing, gurgling Selkath came charging toward us. The mercenary shouted and started firing, as I ignited my sabers and charged in, lightning leading to confuse and stun while I slashed and danced between them.

A moment, and it was over. But my companion was staring at my off-hand with a strange expression.

"Not a Jedi. Are you. . . Sith?"

"No, no. I'm just Revan."

He coughed, choked. "You mean, _Darth_ Revan? The Sith Lord?"

"No! Just Revan. Revan the Revan…ist. Not Jedi, not Sith."

He backed away, and I sighed. "Look, I'm your best chance at surviving the Selkath. Would you rather wait here? I can come back for you once I clear a path.

"How did you get down here? This base is a Republic secret."

"I'm working with the Republic, I'm just not a Jedi in the traditional sense. And yes, I like the colour red. That doesn't make me evil." I stared at my saber contemplatively. "Though, if I could get a more orange-gold colour, that would be better. Pure red is so generic nowadays."

"Yes, gold might not be so Sith-like," the mercenary said, still sounding a bit wary but he seemed less on edge now.

"So, do you know about any ruins on the ocean floor? Ancient artefacts?"

"No, I'm just part of the rescue team that was supposed to investigate." He shook his head. "We had no idea what we were going up against, we just weren't prepared for the reality down here."

I opened another door, leading to a crossing corridor. A force field had been erected to block the way, and a pair of terrified-looking civilians stood behind it.

"They're here to let the selkath and firaxa in!" the woman shrieked. "Stop them, kill them!"

"Calm down," I said, but the door slammed shut behind us.

"Sixty seconds to complete depressurization," a calm computerized voice said.

"NO!" I screamed, and slashed against the force field with both lightsabers, channeling lightning through and into it.

I would _not_ be crushed by the ocean here!

The mercenary backed away from me, though there wasn't far to go in the small enclosed room. I barely registered the movement.

"Fifty seconds to complete depressurization."

Fear lent me strength, I kept lashing out against the force field in a panic until the energy I'd pressed into it was too much for it to cycle. It flickered out, the emitters sparking and smoking from the overload.

"Forty seconds to complete depressurization."

I rushed to the inner control panel, canceled the sequence.

"No, no," the civilian man moaned, his eyes glazed with fear. "The Selkath, the firaxa, no. . ."

"What was that?" I demanded, deactivating my sabers and returning them to my belt. "Why would you try to kill me?"

"You're. . ." the woman said, coming just a bit out of hysteria, "You're not here to kill us, are you."

"I'm sorry," the man said, his own terror receding a bit. His eyes refocused, but he was still trembling. "I saw you trying to come in, I just panicked. It's been days since we saw anyone who wasn't insane. We thought we were the last ones left."

"Yeah, same here," the mercenary said, looking relieved. "So what actually happened here?"

"It's hard to tell, really," the woman said. "The work teams were outside, we were here, everything went on as usual. Then there was a rumbling, and a huge monster shark came up from the rift. I could feel it, screaming inside my head."

"Then all the Selkath started screaming too," the man agreed. "They turned on us, attacked their own allies, it was a nightmare. We managed to get the force field up, but the rest of our team. . . the Selkath ate them. Right in front of us. It was. . ."

He trailed off, covering his eyes and shaking his head.

"I need to find some ancient ruins," I told them. "Do you know where they are?"

"Right by the rift where the shark came up," the woman replied. "But you can't get past it now, it's furious, keeps smashing itself against the machinery out there, and all the workers out there were killed. If you helped it, destroy the machinery we built on the edge, it might calm down enough for you to get past."

"That would set us back months, years even!" the man retorted. He turned to me. "We were working on synthesizing a formula that could scare away firaxa. We never finished, but right now it's violently toxic to them. If you vent that through the machinery, it will kill the shark and we can return everything to normal."

"But you have no idea what that could do to the water," the woman said. "It could even destroy the kolto, we can't risk it."

"How would I destroy the machines?" I asked, not liking the idea of spreading toxins in water I was about to _walk through_.

The woman described a process for creating a pressure overload that would liquidize the fuel and cause a chain reaction, while the man continued to try convincing me that the poison would be a better idea.

I gathered my environment suit and headed out the airlock.


	26. Manaan: Part 4

I stepped again onto Manaan's surface deep beneath the ocean, for what I hoped would be the last time. I could sense the Star Map's closeness now, feel its perfection. The Builders had understood the Force in a way lost to us, technologically harnessing it with artisanal skill that the most advanced modern holocrons could barely pretend to imitate.

Here, like on Tatooine, a great creature had been drawn to its call, acting as its guardian. Only, this time, outside forces had intervened. The machinery constructed on the rift, driving the beast to fury, driving the sharks to frenzy, driving the selkath insane. All because of simple greed.

I laughed humorlessly. So much death and loss, because they wanted more kolto to heal their soldiers than the Selkath would openly export. I almost felt bad for what I was about to do, destroying their precious harvesting machine and setting them back. After all, the Republic fleet would be _my_ fleet soon enough, if all went well.

I reached the control panel and input the sequence the scientist woman had given me, setting the pressure within the harvester's fuel to explosive levels.

While the reaction built, I focused my thoughts outward on the furious shark, sending it calming messages of peace and assistance. I was here to visit and help, not to cause problems.

The machinery exploded, scattering metal through the rift and across the ocean floor, but the shark barely reacted. It was focused on me, I could tell, watching, waiting.

I continued to offer it peace and calm, though eagerness to have this done with and return to not-underwater was pressing in on my thoughts. It waited, off to the side, and I sensed its intentions to be indifferent. It wouldn't attack me, or the base. We had reached an agreement, of sorts, and with the harvester gone it would return to its silent vigil.

I passed before it, awed by its ancient splendor. I'm not a big fan of fishes, but something about this creature just demanded respect. It wasn't quite enough to distract me from the crushing weight of Manaan's ocean trying to destroy me if it had the chance, but it came close.

It took longer than I'd have liked to copy the star map coordinates into my datapad, the external cameras on the suit were much lower quality so I had to circle the map projection slowly several times to get the complete scan of it.

I used the back door the mercenary had told me about to return to the first base area, where I had left the rest of my team. It took only a moment to locate them, my Force sense pointed me right toward Canderous. T3 explained that he'd found several mines set around the area and recovered them for me, which I commended.

We returned to the submersible bay, where there was no sign of the crazy guy who'd first greeted us. I wasn't sure if he'd found a better hiding place or decided to try swimming or something, but he wasn't my problem any longer.

We returned safely and uneventfully to the Republic embassy, where Wann was waiting impatiently.

"You have returned! I was worried that you too may have been lost. What happened down there, did you find out?"

"The Selkath went insane and ate everyone else," I said, keeping it brief. "A few survivors are hiding out in the section nearest the rift, but I had to kill all the Selkath. They were completely savage, impossible to reason with."

"They killed everyone? And the mercenaries? Why, what could possibly have happened to cause this?"

"Your machinery upset an ancient shark, and its anger and fear was amplified through the Star Map and transmitted to everyone on the base. The humans resisted, more or less, while the Selkath lost their minds completely."

"The Star Map, so you found it then?"

"Of course. Oh, and I wouldn't try to tamper with it if I were you. That guardian-fish is serious. Mine your kolto somewhere else and stay clear of those ruins."

Wann frowned at me, but I strode past him and down the hall. I was pleased to note that Lorgal had indeed succumbed to my plague; he lay dead in his force-cage.

I smiled. Being a Force-wielder certainly did make bounty hunting easier.

Exiting the Republic enclave, though, we were again confronted by Selkath authorities.

"Now what, I haven't done anything!" I protested, but they arrested us and dragged us up to their courts without listening to my protests.

They interrogated us about our involvement with the explosions down at the rift, and I answered mostly honestly, and they eventually thanked us for saving their giant fish and let us go.

* * *

By the time we reached the Ebon Hawk I was very hungry, completely exhausted, and in need of a serious bath. It was well past nightfall, and we'd been out fighting, in court, fighting again, and in court again for at least fifteen hours straight.

"Where were you?" Bastila asked as I came aboard. "We heard the Sith base was attacked, and the perpetrators arrested. Then we didn't hear anything more from you. I was afraid you'd been captured, your claustrophobia had me terribly worried, but the Selkath said they let you go. I thought you must have been caught by the Sith."

I apologized for not thinking about her feelings, and though she tried to say that it hadn't been of any importance I could sense the relief within her at being reunited.

We were connected more strongly than ever, I knew, and though I had hardly paused to notice her absence, it could well have contributed to my unease in the underwater base. Everything just felt more _right_ again now that I stood beside her.

I smiled wearily. "I don't suppose you sensed my growing hunger and decided to procure something delicious?"

She shook her head. "Just ship's rations for dinner, I'm afraid."

"Or we could go out. Try some Manaan cuisine. I saved their giant fish, got another star map, and all in under a day. We should invite Mission along too, bring Juhani, make it a girls' night to celebrate our victories. Sounds fun, right?"

Bastila hesitated. "It sounds very public. There are Sith everywhere on this planet. That is why I remained on the ship, remember?"

"They've heard of the great Jedi Bastila, sure, but would the average Sith grunt really know you by appearance?" I asked. "Just put on some non-Jedi armor, we'll look like a band of mercs. Of which there are an abundance here."

"Perhaps another time, but I feel it would be foolish to risk exposure now," Bastila said, sensibly. "The longer we can go without Malak knowing our whereabouts, the greater the chance we have to evade him. You know as well as I that it is not yet time to face him."

"And what will finding this Star Forge really accomplish?" I asked. "The Jedi won't help us, they'll want to destroy it. And at this point, I suspect they wouldn't mind too much if they took me out along with it. Malak will be well entrenched, strong and confident. I don't know if I'll ever be as powerful as I once was. Together we'll beat him, but. . ."

"If you were trying to make a point, you seem to have wandered off it," Bastila pointed out.

"I know, I'm just really tired." I sighed. "Ships' rations it is."

* * *

As I collected the food, I noticed our stores seemed much lower than was normal. I frowned, then remembered that Z had mentioned a stowaway a while ago. I closed my eyes, reached out to sense the people on the ship. One extra presence, weak and timid, hiding behind loose paneling at the far end of the cargo hold.

"It's alright, you can come out," I said gently, walking toward the panel. "I just need to know what you're doing on my ship."

I slid the panel out of the way, revealing a scared girl. She couldn't have been older than ten, probably younger. She had a stash of food packets behind and beside her, and was clutching a non-functional hydrospanner to her chest, pointed toward me to ward me away.

"Who are you?" I asked, in basic. She showed no signs of recognition, only quiet fear. I tried a few different languages, but the only variance in reaction was that she flinched away instinctively when I tried mandalorian.

"I won't hurt you, I need to know who you are," I told her in that language, keeping my tone light. "My name is Revan." I placed a hand on my chest. "Revan." Pointed to her. "Name?"

"Sasha," she replied. "Revan na dabs?"

Her grammar was atrocious, her vocabulary limited, but through painstaking trial and error I learned that she was from Dantooine, an escaped prisoner of one of the Mandalorian raiding parties we had dismantled.

She didn't know anything about her family, her true planet of origin. I hadn't heard anything on Dantooine about a missing child either, so it was highly likely she was from a different world entirely. And if she had been with mandalorians long enough that theirs was the only language she spoke and the only life she remembered, she would probably never be able to find her own home again.

I sighed. "Sasha, you can stay here with us for a little while, I have a friend who will look for your family."

She didn't seem to understand much, but I held out a hand to her. She backed up for a moment, then slowly and tentatively reached out. I pulled her gently to her feet, brought her to Mission's room.

"Sasha stay here, yes?"

She didn't respond, looked at Mission with wide eyes.

The hacker looked startled at first, then broke into a grin. "Sasha? Is that your name? It's a very pretty name."

"She only speaks really bad Mandalorian," I told Mission. "She was kidnapped long enough ago that I doubt there's any way of finding her parents, but can you look around the holonet? I'm putting her in your charge as long as it takes, if we can't find anyone to take care of her. . ." I shrugged.

I really didn't like the number of dependents we'd accumulated, though Mission had her uses, Sasha was at least a few years away from being any help. And if we were ever boarded by Sith. . .

"Don't worry. I'll take good care of her. And we _will_ find her parents."

I nodded thanks, returned to the workshop. "Canderous, I need your help with something," I told him. "We have a stowaway, a little girl, but I don't want her to be at undue risk in our fight. She had a hideout in the cargo hold, can you improve and secure it?"

"Smuggler's ship like this has lots of hidey spaces, shouldn't be a problem to rig up some improvements."

"Thanks."

I sighed, grabbed my food package, and returned to my room.

* * *

I waited until everyone was asleep, except T3 and Canderous who were sharing the watch at present, before activating the Genoharadan signal disc and slipping out into Ahto city's ever-lit streets. I remembered the route well, and soon stood waiting by the edge of the platform. I stared out at the dark waters, lapping endlessly against the sides of the base, and tried hard not to think about being crushed beneath them.

I wasn't really afraid of water, but it unnerved me in such large quantity.

"You wished to see me, 'R'?"

"Revan, actually," I said, turning to face Hulas. The rodian didn't look as though he'd been awakened in the middle of the night, but he did express surprise at the name I gave.

"As in _the_ Revan?" he asked.

"I understand it's a very common name on Deralia," I said.

Hulas looked at me as though uncertain if I was joking or not.

"Yes, _the_ Revan," I said, sighing. "I suppose you won't want to recruit me after all, former Jedi hero, former Sith lord, not exactly low profile for your little group. But I did finish off Lorgal and Zuulan, as promised."

"You are quite correct that _normally_ we would never recruit someone so high profile as Darth Revan—"

"Just Revan," I corrected. "No longer Jedi, and certainly no longer Sith."

"Revan, then. But sometimes secrecy is better served by being obvious. No one would suspect you of working for a secret society such as ours with your high-profile life. Yes, I think we can continue your initiation. If you still desire to enter the Genoharadan?"

"I haven't been paid yet," I reminded him. "But I do generally like getting paid to defend the galaxy, and I've long since abandoned any ideas about what it might take to do so. The elimination of undesirables who may cause chaos, by any means necessary, is sometimes what is needed."

"I knew you were the right one for the position," Hulas said.

"I'm trusting the Genoharadan truly understand the needs of the galaxy in this, mind you," I said, holding up a hand. "If I learn otherwise, or if I decide my interests are better served by inaction. . . well, that would be quite a discussion. But I'm sure you have as great an interest in the continued security of the galaxy as I do."

"Indeed, Revan," Hulas replied, "And it is due to our shared goals for that galaxy that I wish to continue with your initiation. Three targets this time, and you must eliminate all of them for your induction to be complete. These are not simple targets like the first two, each of them is capable of providing a serious challenge."

He glanced at me, then chuckled. "To anyone but Revan, that is. For you, I suspect they will prove little more than a brief diversion. Which is all the better for everyone involved." He unclipped a dark, obviously custom vibroblade from his belt, and handed it to me along with a stealth field generator belt of the highest quality I'd ever seen, much less held.

"Your reward for Lorgal and Zuulan," he explained. "Quality construction, worth a fortune on the black market, and very useful for our agents. We would prefer you didn't sell them, but if you need the credits more than equipment you may rest assured that they will find their way safely back to us in time."

He handed me three more triangular data chips, and another signal card. "As before, only signal when you are ready to speak with me, I have wasted enough days staring at the sea it waiting for your arrival. Senni was really quite ineffective at his job."

He indicated one of the mission chips. "This one, Ithorak Gulder, is currently on Manaan. You may wish to see to him before you leave." He inclined his head respectfully. "Farewell, Revan."

I read Ithorak's file as I walked back toward the docking bays, pausing when I reached the swoop cantina where I could set up an appointment with the target's agent. The file indicated that he would meet with representatives of wealthy clients, so I backtracked until finding a clothing shop that was open this time of night, which wasn't actually that hard. I was far from the only person out, the bright lights of the platform and frequent Selkath patrols provided a cheerful and safe atmosphere even in the dead of night.

Dressed in a manner more appropriate to a representative, my equipment held for me at the shop and my lightsabers tucked away under an overcoat, I strode into the swoop cantina and approached the only man in the place who could possibly be Ithorak's representative.

A quick casual conversation later, and he agreed to set up an appointment with his boss. I promised to meet him there, collected my equipment, and headed to the appointed meeting place.

Ithorak had a big defence droid with him, as well as his representative, but when he saw me he immediately knew something was wrong.

"This is your 'contact'?" he demanded of his assistant. "She is clearly an assassin, what were you thinking!"

I smiled. "Lucky for me this hangar is outside Manaan's security grid, huh? Your desire for confidentiality is appreciated."

"Kill her!" he ordered. His droid and assistant began firing. I gathered lightning in my hands and fired back.

"I don't actually know how an antiquities dealer could possible threaten the security of the republic," I mused aloud. "But the fact that you know an assassin might come after you proves you were mixed up in something suspicious, normal people just don't think that way."

He, being well electrocuted by now, didn't reply.

I blasted the power conduits in the walls to make it look like an explosion rather than a dark-Jedi assassination, just in case. Then I returned to the ship, checked on Canderous's progress with Sasha's hiding spot, and returned to my bed.

Overall, a very good day.


	27. Truth: Part 1

_I stared out at the planet, the battle below us. Everything was in place, everyone was in readiness. I had planned for this, prepared for this. The sacrifices would be unthinkable, but it was the only path to true victory._

 _I couldn't do this with compassion in my heart. I couldn't do this with any shred of empathy. Even for her. I could feel her within my heart, our connection. I could have saved her then, I knew, but it would cost me more than our cause could afford._

 _I felt the charge begin to build, and turned away. I closed my heart, tore our connection apart, and left her to the void._

 _The pain of that moment would never fade, I believed._

 _Never again, I swore silently as the planet imploded behind me. The shockwave destroyed the Mandalorians we'd drawn in and my loyal followers who had led them there alike. No matter the cost to our cause, this was the last time I turned my back on those who followed me faithfully._

 _I promised myself that if she survived, if I could find her again beyond the trials she must undertake now, I would bring her back to my side one day._

 _"May your exile be short," I whispered to the emptiness. "My first sister, I will return for you before the end."_

 _I composed myself and turned back to watch the destruction, to direct the aftermath._

 _But even then I felt something new echoing through the emptiness within me where she had been for so long. A call, from an unknown distance. Faint, almost beyond hearing, but echoing through me insistently._

 _Relayed, time and over, through places behind and beyond. Korriban, my mental map of the galaxy supplied, and the silent call agreed._

 _Come to Korriban._

* * *

I entered the room quietly, placed a Force barrier across the door and walls. Our discussions always got very loud, and this time I didn't want anyone else hearing.

"Onasi?" I asked, my voice shaking just a little. I had put this off the whole trip from Dantooine, and on Manaan I'd been away from him through necessity. But the longer I kept delaying, the easier it would be to just keep pretending. We would arrive at Kashyyyk by morning. I couldn't wait any longer, or it might be too late by the time I worked up the courage.

His capacity for trust was fragile enough this revelation might well break it. But letting him hear it from anyone else would shatter any belief in me so deeply I would never be able to regain it.

"Yes? How can I help?" He turned to me, questioning, waiting. I opened my mouth, but couldn't force the words out.

"I. . . On Dantooine. . ." I mumbled, not meeting his eyes. I cleared my throat. "I know how important honesty is to you. I have to tell you something, but I don't want you to hate me. I don't want you to run. Can. . . can you promise me you'll just listen?"

He chuckled nervously, picking up on the tension that ran through me. "I can't very well refuse after I've made such a point out of asking for you to be more open with me, can I?"

I shook my head. Silence stretched between us a long moment before I finally spoke. "I discovered something terrible," I whispered. "The Republic soldier you think I am, the Jedi padawan I've become, it's all a lie."

I could swear I actually saw the trust leave his eyes, his posture stiffened just a little, that shift from casual to on guard.

"I had nothing to do with it, I swear to you," I told him quickly, almost panicking. I should never have tried this, what was I thinking? "I never lied to you, I was myself deceived."

"Are you a Sith agent?" he asked bluntly. "Embedded in the Republic forces to find your way to Bastila?"

That made me laugh, but it was a weak strangled sound quickly cut off by the emotion clogging my throat. I shook my head, but couldn't bring myself to speak. How could I admit to this man, who had finally started to open up to me, that I was the pure embodiment of everything he'd been fighting against? I couldn't bear to watch that tension in him change to hatred, that wariness to fear.

But I couldn't delay. He had to hear it from me.

"I don't want to say it," I said, my voice cracking. "Two words, I just can't say them. I don't want to lie to you. I don't want you to hear it from anyone else. But I can't. . . please, don't look at me like that."

"I can't help it," Onasi said sharply. "If you don't tell me the truth, you know I'll imagine something even worse. Just tell me."

"I'm. . . I'm. . ." I shook my head, looking away, tears blurring my vision. I had to do this, but I just couldn't.

"Sith?" Onasi prompted. I gave a single hiccuping laugh, jolting harshly through my chest.

"Not exactly," I whispered. I knew he was watching me, judging me. I had to say it. "I'm Revan," I said, forced the words out.

The silence seemed to last forever.

"No, that's crazy, you can't be. . ." he started to protest, sounding relieved at first, but his voice changed to confusion. I obviously believed it, so he couldn't brush it off as a joke. "Revan was destroyed by the Jedi," he said, sounding more like a question, a plea. "Bastila killed him. There's no way."

I shook my head. "Everything you think you know about me is just the facade the Jedi Council built to hide my true self." My voice turned bitter. "I am Revan, beyond Jedi and Sith, savior and conqueror. Destroyed and reborn," my voice broke, dropped to barely a whisper, "broken and empty."

I dared to look up, to face Onasi again. His fists were clenched on his blasters, his face tight with anger.

"They knew this from the beginning," he hissed. "Bastila and the whole Jedi Council. From the moment they placed you on my ship, they knew what you were. They lied to us, lied to _me_. No wonder Malak is trying so hard to capture us all. We have his old Sith master right here."

"I'm not. . ." I started, then trailed off. I couldn't deny it. I _was_ Malak's master, sometime in the forgotten past. In my half-remembered dreams.

"If the highest authorities within the Jedi Order are willing to lie to our very faces, then who can we trust?" Onasi's tone was dark, on the verge of hysteria, on the brink of despair. I couldn't guess which way it would tip, either would destroy him.

I reached out to comfort him, but he jerked away from my hand. "Don't touch me!" he snapped, bringing his blasters up between us. "I don't believe I almost fell for your tricks. I thought you were different."

"I am," I said, almost pleading. I'd known Onasi almost as long as I could remember, from before I'd even found Bastila he and I had been working together. "I told you, I'm empty and remade. Malak's attack, the Jedi Council's interference, I can barely even imagine my life before waking up on the Endar Spire. Please. Carth."

He seemed to focus on me, then. Seemed to see me again, and not the specter of an enemy. He blinked, lowered his guns slowly. "Why did you tell me?" he asked, slowly. "What gain is there for Revan to reveal herself to me?"

"I told you because I want you to trust me, someday even if you can't right now," I told him. "I know it won't be easy for you, and that's okay. We've been working together long enough, I think you know we'll yell and fight and still get the job done together anyway, and eventually everything will be fine again. But if I kept this from you, if you ever found out another way, you'd never be able to trust me again."

He nodded, the wariness still clear in his eyes, but he sheathed his weapons. "I've seen the way you think, how you act," he said. "You skirt a dangerous line, play with people's lives and emotions. And I don't approve. It was bad enough when you were just a smuggler. But a former dark lord, that's bordering on relapse. I'll be watching you closely now, Revan. Please don't let me down. I can't promise I'll be able to trust you again, but if you want to prove yourself worthy of our belief, then show that you've truly changed."

"I don't know if I can do that," I said quietly. "You don't see the bigger picture. I have to throw myself into alignment, one way or the other. And I can't destroy Malak with peace, can't protect the galaxy with serenity. You see it, don't you? The Jedi are wrong, the Sith are wrong, but they both hold truth within their foolish extremes."

"I don't understand," Onasi said. "What are you talking about?"

"The Force isn't a toggle switch, light here, dark there, whichever you want at the moment. It's a path, a flow, something you slowly attune to your will and your heart. The Jedi reach that level with meditation and peace. The Sith attain strength through passion and selfishness. And the powers they can touch are different. So very opposite. I'm not going to claim balance, because I know that the path I walk requires more darkness than light. More power than serenity can offer."

I glanced at Onasi, realized that this explanation to him was the first time I'd actually understood what I was doing myself. My casual manipulation, my deliberately flippant attitude, flaunting my emotions. I was naturally more attuned to the peace-spectrum than I could afford, and this was my way of tipping the balance.

"When a village is in danger, you don't sit and meditate about it," I continued. "You build a wall, train fighters, and strike back against those who would destroy you. And right now, our galaxy is weak. The Republic is crumbling. Between the war of Exar Kun, the Mandalorian wars, and now Malak's fool power tirade, we are more vulnerable than ever before. Even just on the surface, without considering the lives that have been thrown awry, the power struggles surely going on within the Republic's failing leadership structures."

I shook my head. "I need to unite everything and I need to do so quickly. This is not a time for peaceful meditation. Can you understand that? Can you see my path as the necessary one?" I fell silent, waiting.

"I can't say I disagree with your stated goals, saving the galaxy is pretty much what I signed on for," Onasi said at length. "But are you trying to tell me that petty cruelty and manipulation is needed to that end? I find that hard to accept."

"It's a rush job, I'll admit," I said, turning away. "But the Jedi won't see it, and I don't have time to convince them. There's no _time_ , Onasi! Whatever is out there is still out there, and I lost it. I can't _remember_ , and we've lost so much ground and so much time. I can't stop to find another way, don't you see? The Sith have been utilizing cruelty to align to the more aggressive Force powers for centuries, and right now I can't afford any delay. We may already be doomed."

Onasi shook his head. "If that's what you're going to dedicate yourself to, then you can do it without me. There has to be a better way."

I gritted my teeth in frustration. "I'm sure there is, but we can find that _after_ we save the galaxy! Right now, right _now_ we are losing ground every second, losing priceless time in this war, and I can't even remember the enemy."

"Are you so sure the enemy isn't yourself?" Onasi asked quietly.

I shook my head, confident. "It's out there, away, far far away. Beyond the edges of our galaxy. I felt it, so long ago, I understood it then. But I haven't the strength to sense it now, I don't have the time to search it out. I need the power to unite the galaxy and I need it _now_."

I paused, continued. "You know there's no other choice. Malak and Saul Kareth have to be brought down, they are causing so much trouble for so many thousands, millions, of people. If these handful of lives I have to throw askew are the price we must pay to stop so much suffering, can you really refute that? In this moment, in this war, I can't afford to hold to any code of morality."

"So, what, you're saying that you'll kill your conscience gladly if it gives you the power to take down Malak?" Onasi asked, incredulous. "What about afterward? If you really do take the power you're saying you need, that will only make it harder for you to return. Power corrupts, remember? And if you throw away your codes and morality just to _gain_ power, then what will you have become when you actually _hold_ that power?"

"I can't afford to think like that, Carth!" I said. "Don't you understand what I've lost? Everything! All I have is you, Bastila, Juhani, Canderous. . . this little group thrown together by purest chance. We're the only chance of saving the galaxy. I'm trying so hard to find my way back to my destiny, but it's not an easy path and nothing can be allowed to stand in the way."

He shook his head. "I won't agree with this. Come back from the darkness before it's too late. You can find another way, _we_ can find another way."

I swallowed, the lump in my throat refusing to vanish. "I _can't_." I whispered, unable to banish the tears that gathered in my eyes. "I've already given too much, put too much effort into this path, even before I understood why I must. I'm too far away, Onasi, I can sense it. By the time we reach Korriban, I have to be strong enough to seize control of the academy there. I'll be able to bring a small army of force-users to our confrontation. The Sith respect strength, they'll follow me willingly to learn from me until they can overthrow me themselves. It's how they think. The Jedi, they would never agree to this."

"And neither can I," Onasi said, turning away. "I was assigned to protect Bastila, and help find the Star Forge, so I won't be leaving. I will do my best to protect her and Juhani from your dark influence."

"You're setting yourself against me?" I asked incredulously, my pleading sadness burning to anger in an instant. "Do you not understand how recklessly foolish that is? To say it to my _face_ , when we're here alone?"

"You won't hurt me, I know you. You may think you're trying with all your strength to throw yourself down the path of darkness, but you're still holding back. And if you'd just try to strengthen that goodness that glimmers through the cracks in your dark facade, you could be so much more."

I shook my head. "You're wrong. I've seen the Jedi, I've seen their pinnacle of 'lightness'. They live in apathy, an emotionless void that brings only weakness and death. Life is more than sitting in serenity, meditating about how powerful you are. Life is out here, among the stars. Life is in the dark underbelly of Nar Shaddaa or Coruscant. The Sith are wrong about so much, but the Jedi are wrong about almost everything."

"I'm not saying the Jedi are _right_ , I'm saying that _you_ are _wrong_!" Onasi snapped. "Are you even listening to yourself? You can't justify wanton cruelty by saying it's for a greater good, not like this."

"You know, you're right," I said harshly. "I _have_ been holding back. I haven't been progressing fast enough, because I'm too merciful, too tepid. If I'm going to do this, I have to do it all the way or the minor sacrifices won't be worth it in the end."

"Stop, Revan! This is exactly wrong, you aren't listening."

I brought my eyes up to meet his, glared at my oldest friend, at my newest adversary. "Stay out of my way," I said, coldly and threateningly. "You are an asset, an ally, and one I would not like to harm. But you cannot stop me, and you know it. Do not waste your life by trying."

"Please, don't do this," Onasi begged, his tone finally registering that he'd pushed me too far, that he wanted to backtrack. But it was too late. He'd made his position clear, and I had been forced to make my own equally unmovable. "I thought we could be friends. I was finally starting to actually trust you, like you." His hands were tight fists at his side, jerking in emphasis. "Do you know how long it's been? How hard it was for me to open up to you? And this is how you repay me?"

"I am telling you the _truth_ , Onasi," I said, my tone brittle. "You would rather I lied to you? Left you ignorant while I went on my way? You would rather believe me to be a _nice little Jedi_ than the Dark Lord Reborn?"

My words caught in my throat, Vrook's taunt from so long ago echoing in my memory. I had told myself then that he was wrong, that I would never be the Dark Lord reborn.

I pushed away any regret. Perhaps even the arrogant fool knew more than he seemed to. In that moment it no longer mattered.

"I don't want you to lie," Onasi said. "I want you to _listen_. Giving yourself over to darkness never solves anything."

I opened my mouth to continue the argument, then hesitated. Did I really have to go _this_ far? Onasi had been so much to me for so long, my closest confidant. Bastila I had to be careful around, had to calculate and try to influence subtly. We were far more intimately aware of each other, of course, the Force bond between us would allow nothing less, but Onasi and I were something different. Buddies, friends in a deep but casual way that the intensity of Bastila's connection could never permit.

But I couldn't back down. I steeled myself, reminded myself that there was only one way this confrontation could end. With Onasi's submission, one way or another. Whatever waited out there, I couldn't afford to face it in weakness.

"I am not giving myself to anything or anyone," I said. "The darkness will serve me, as will the Force, as will you if you are wise. If you're willing to come to a compromise."

"Oh, compromise?" Onasi demanded. "What compromise? I agree to let you hurt and manipulate people so you won't _kill_ me? What kind of compromise is that?"

"The kind where you stay alive to fight Malak and Saul Kareth," I replied icily, my voice rising. "The kind where you can still do some good in the galaxy. The kind where I don't have to prove my dedication to this path with _your blood_."

He stopped, then, looked at me with a sort of horrified pity that made me want to crush his throat.

"You've gone too far to back down now," he realized. "Right now, if I defy you, you would do it."

He took a deep breath, then nodded. "I won't make you do that, Revan. I'll compromise. For you. To save you from yourself, at least a little longer."

"I don't care why you agree, so long as you obey me," I told him.

He nodded, and I could almost feel how much that submission cost him. "I understand. You've made your point."

He would not directly oppose me. He may be plotting how to turn me aside from my course, how to prevent me from 'corrupting' everyone else, but he would not push me so far that the only option was his death. He did understand me, now. And there was no longer any hint of friendship in his dark gaze as he watched me warily.

I felt the furious energy quivering around my hands, knew that if I tried to speak I'd end up killing him.

I turned away, lowered the Force barrier without a word and returned to my own room, hands shaking even after the Force energy evaporated. I felt weak with anger and crushing sorrow, my throat and stomach filled with a deep ache that made me wonder if the Jedi weren't at least partly right about avoiding relationships.

I forced the thought away, refused to accept it, locked it away. I needed friends, allies, someone to ground my ambitions in reality. I had learned that lesson long ago. Just one more thing the Jedi were utterly wrong about.

And of the few I had, I'd driven one of them away. Pointlessly. Onasi would never trust Revan, truth or no truth. I shouldn't have been so impatient, shouldn't have tried to force the issue. If it had come out eventually, I would have dealt with it then. Should have. Could have.

I focused my emotional fury into practice, levitating scorched and crushed pieces of metal and targeting them with my strongest Force abilities. Kinesis, lightning, drawing them close and smashing them away.

But beneath the rage, I couldn't hide from the agony of my regret.

And much as I tried to ignore the tears, they didn't stop coming.


	28. Truth: Part 2

_The Star Map waited on the forest floor, built into a technological installation that still appeared intact despite the giant trees growing around it._

 _A hologram waited, guarding, watching. No careful manipulation of the Force this time, the map opened before me. . ._

* * *

Bastila came to me in the morning. She sat beside me, silent, keeping her concern to herself and meditating calmly. Her still center helped me return to myself, but I knew the decision I made that night would not be reversed.

I had been trying to play both sides, without really understanding what I was doing. Darkness by deliberate act, while instinctively following the Jedi's programmed identity toward mercy and _light_.

I couldn't keep doing that. I was running out of time, the _galaxy_ was running out of time. I may have years to train and grow stronger, or we may have only months or weeks, but either way each day that passed brought us closer to the inevitable confrontation.

"This is it, isn't it?" Bastila said quietly. "This is where your imprinted identity dies in truth and Darth Revan returns in full."

"I haven't been thinking," I told her, sidestepping the question. "I've just been acting, acting on instincts, both those of my past and those of the lie that is my present. Now, I have to choose how to move forward into the future and we both know I can't afford to. . ."

I sighed, leaned back. I couldn't explain myself, so I just opened myself to her. My conflicted emotions and the arguments I'd been replaying in my mind for hours, my certainty and my confusions, the dark center of surety that said if I didn't do this the galaxy would be lost. Even the still quiet voice of the person the Jedi had created, saying that the fate of the galaxy wasn't worth my soul.

"What else can I do?" I asked, not trying to conceal the despair and uncertainty in my tone. This was Bastila, the one person I would never be able to hide from, the one person I would never try to deceive.

She sat quietly for a long, long moment. I knew she was absorbing and considering the flood of confusion that was my predicament, and I knew also that trying to rush her would gain no benefit.

I felt no need to qualify my thoughts, or make excuses or explanations. She understood me in a way no one else could. And somehow, despite how overwhelmed and despairing I felt, I had no fears that she would reject me. If I was wrong, she would tell me so. If I was right, she would affirm it.

Stronger together. Weaker apart. Our destiny lay together, one way or another.

"You are strong in both the light and dark sides of the Force," she said at length. "This is a constant source of internal conflict." She shook her head. "I don't know how you can stand it without being torn apart, honestly. You're taking ultimately protective goals, fighting for an end aligned so strongly with the light, and yet you try to do it by drawing upon darkness."

"Jedi pacifism won't stop Malak," I said firmly. On this, I had no question or hesitation.

"I know," she said quietly. "But when the struggle to align yourself with darkness is fueled by your desire to fight for the light, it won't work."

"I will make it work," I growled.

"That's the point, you _can't_. Because you are a _good_ person, at heart, and what you're doing is basically just flaunting the fact that you _think_ you're being dark. It won't do any good."

"I refuse to accept that," I said firmly, harshly. "There is no such thing as the 'light side' and the 'dark side' and there certainly isn't some tumultuous struggle for mastery going on within me. Any uncertainty is due to this _false identity_ the Jedi council tried to impress upon my soul. I still _feel_ like a weak, foolish, Republic-serving smuggler who would rather save people at every turn than accept the sacrifices that must sometimes be made."

Bastila didn't answer. I knew she wanted to dispute the fact, but she had seen me in all the trueness of self. She knew any comforting words, any attempt at placating me, would just be denial.

"And what happens to me, if you manage to become as dark as you claim to want?" she finally asked. "Will you take no thought to what effect your actions will have on me?"

"You are mine, and I will do nothing to harm you," I said. "You know me better than to suggest otherwise."

"I had nightmares about fighting with Carth all night," Bastila said flatly. "I woke this morning with a certainty that I had done the right thing by _threatening his life_. It took me nearly an hour to reassert myself before I could think clearly enough to come to you."

I looked away, the accusation chipping away at the edges of my resolve.

"I don't want you to give up," Bastila said quickly, heading off my despair before I could fall into it. "I want you to be honest with me. I want us to work together. What you did was foolish. Carth doesn't need to know any of this, and you jeopardized your relationship _and_ our mission by confronting him."

"I thought it was my best choice," I said. "I wanted to trust him, but things got out of hand. . ." I choked back the tears in my throat. It was done, there could be no changing it.

"The past is beside the point now," Bastila said, subconsciously echoing my thoughts. "You and I must work together if we are to fulfill our destiny, bring down Malak, and find peace for the Republic. You can't do so while so internally divided. I. . ."

She hesitated. I could sense her uncertainty, her fear, and a quiet eagerness underneath pushing her forward. Like when she'd stood up for me in front of the Council, her link to me held slightly stronger than her better judgment, than the Jedi teachings she upheld so strongly the rest of the time.

"I keep thinking of myself as alone," I admitted quietly. "That lone smuggler, trusting no one, using others instead of allying in truth. I know, I have a whole team here with me, but my mind just isn't set for deep collaboration."

"That can be changed," Bastila said. She was trembling slightly as she held out a hand to me. "Together."

I reached out to her with my own, uncertain what she expected.

"Light or Dark," she said quietly, intently, "I'm yours now. Your. . . second sister. I accept that position and everything that comes with it."

"You will follow me willingly, even if that path leads us deep into darkness?" I asked, amazed. How someone with whom I shared such an intimate connection could consistently surprise me, I'd never know.

She returned her hands to her lap. "Not _gladly_ , but. . . we are in this together. I do not wish to stand in opposition to you, and I feel certain that together we can reach a balance."

"Even if that balance lies well within the area the Jedi would call 'the Dark Side'?" I asked.

"Even so," Bastila said without hesitating, the doubt in her heart well buried. She was making a choice, much as I had done the night before.

But her choice was so much more than mine. I had nothing to lose, no one to disappoint, nothing to betray. All I had was this ship, these companions, and a head full of mismatched memories. I didn't believe in their simple categorizations of people and the Force.

Bastila had her entire life as a Jedi padawan, knowing her destiny to become a pure and stalwart bastion of the Light. And now she was choosing, _choosing_ , to throw all of that away and follow me wherever I led. Even into what she considered the ultimate enemy, their 'Dark Side' of the Force.

For me. The responsibility implied by accepting that trust was staggering.

Bastila smiled weakly. "I see you understand the gravity of our position. I would be concerned if you didn't. Your honest reaction is exactly why I can place my confidence in you. While you may put on a facade of careless arrogance and thoughtlessness, you and I know better. I did not understand before, because you did not understand yourself. You acted from forgotten instincts, in ways guided by a past you couldn't consciously recall. Patterns from your former life, all that remained of the Plan."

I heard the confidence in her tone, felt the surety of her as she said _Plan_. She knew, she understood, and she would stand by me.

I turned, leaning up on my knees, and gently hugged her. Her meditative position made the gesture a little less than perfectly executed, but at that moment I didn't care.

This wasn't the adrenaline-high of defying the council, this wasn't the camaraderie I had felt with Onasi. This was something else, something deeper, inexplicable. A combination of love, pride, awe, and respect that mixed with concern and uncertainty.

What right did I have to drag this strong, beautiful young woman into darkness with me? Bad enough that I would have to walk right to the edge, but the threat to her suddenly felt like a betrayal.

"No," she said quietly. I released her, returned to sitting cross-legged beside her.

"What?" I asked.

"I won't let you leave me behind." Her voice was soft, firm, accompanied by an iron-rigid determination within her.

"I wasn't going to," I said.

"You think you betrayed your. . . first sister, whoever she was. You think you vowed never to do that to anyone else. But the truth is, that sacrifice was _hers_ to make. And this choice is _mine_ to live with or die by. _Your_ sacrifice is to allow us to follow you, to stand and watch as we are spent in your war, to accept whatever losses are required and _fight on_. Whatever threat you felt, I have seen it too. In your dreams, in your _memories_ , and I know like no one else alive that _you_ are our best hope."

"I wasn't going to leave you behind," I said, but the words sounded hollow even to me. She knew me _too well_.

"Not now, not soon, but eventually you would have reached the point where you were sure it was too dangerous, where you'd be forced to choose between me and the galaxy. And I am telling you right now, so you do not have an excuse. You will _not_ put my safety over that of everything else. If it comes to that, you will _not_ leave me behind in safety even if my part in our fight means my certain death. If I am threatened and you must choose between me and the galaxy, you must abandon me without a moment's hesitation. I demand as much."

I bowed my head, unsure if I would be able to accept that. It would be so easy to say the words, to agree with sincerity, but she could see my feelings as well as I could see hers. And I had to be sure, had to examine my own fears and prejudices well enough to say with certainty that if the moment came I would do as she desired.

Or not, if that was the truth. Bastila was the one person I could never lie to, even if I wished it.

"Our destiny lies together," I said, a waiting move. Buying time.

Bastila smiled. "Until the end, which may be yours or may be mine."

She wasn't distracted at all.

Bastila versus galaxy. Easy equation, right? Billions upon trillions of lives, hundreds and thousands of inhabited worlds, weighed against the simple life of a single no-longer Jedi.

But she was _my_ no-longer Jedi. She was second sister, my first true Revanite. She was _MINE_. I would not give her up, not cast her away. I. . .

I would throw myself to the very edge of darkness for the galaxy, but not allow any risk to her life? She was right, the sacrifice was hers to choose. I may be the strategist and leader, but she was still her own person. As much as she belonged to me, I belonged to her. As much as I belonged to myself, she belonged to herself.

I could not ask her to risk less than I did. I could not demand that she become less than what she could be. It would be selfishness of the worst order.

I stood, hands interlaced before me, aware of the weight and solemnity of the vow I was about to make. "I will protect you, with all my strength and will, but only as far as it causes no threat to the galaxy."

Bastila stood as well, put her hands over my own. "I will follow you, with all my strength and will, wherever you lead and however you command, for the good of the galaxy."

I inverted my hands, taking hold of hers. "Together, we will destroy Malak. Together we will unite the galaxy. Together we will defend our own."

She nodded, then grinned and swept one of her extraordinarily exaggerated bows. "As you command, Lord Revan."

"Why is it that all my friends want to call me _Lord_ Revan now?" I grumbled, but knew she sensed the smile behind my words, the relief.

She scoffed in reply. "You plan to _conquer the galaxy_. Get used to it."


	29. Kashyyyk: Part 1

"Czerka corporation requires a 100-credit landing fee be paid for docking privileges on Edean," the Ithorian dockmaster told us as we headed down the _Ebon Hawk_ 's ramp.

I paused. "Edean? Huh, I thought this was Kashyyyk."

"That is what some indigenous species refer to Edean as, yes, but Czerka maintains naming rights."

"Ah, good, we are in the right place." I waved a hand in front of his face. "We won't need to be paying the docking fee."

"You don't need to be paying the docking fee," he said, making a notation on his datapad. "Welcome to Edean."

Onasi would be staying to guard the ship, Mission was busy taking care of Sasha, our little stowaway, while Canderous was making modifications to the smuggler's hides in the cargo hold to create her a safe place in case of Sith boarding parties.

Juhani, Bastila, and Z followed me down the rampway.

The landing pads on Kashyyyk, or 'Edean' as Czerka called it, were massive wooden platforms high in the wroshr trees. Connected to other structures by suspended walkways, the entire affair hung hundreds of feet above the dark depths below. The ground wasn't even visible.

It made me feel strangely free, staring down at the darkness beneath us. Detached from the earth, yet no longer in the sky, a between-place of possibility.

I glanced at Juhani. I had yet to share my revelation with her, and in this case I couldn't predict how she would react. Mission I'd been unsure of, and she had been fine with it. Onasi, well, I'd known he would take it hard. I just hadn't anticipated how deep our argument would take us.

Z technically didn't know either, but a life-debt was something not so easily broken as by a mere change of name. I wasn't concerned with how or when _he_ found out.

I shrugged the matter aside. Over the past day, I'd had more than enough of dealing with that particular revelation. For now I would carry on as though the most important thing was finding the Star Maps.

Though, now that I no longer answered to the Jedi Council, I wasn't entirely sure why. I had sought out the Star Forge once before, but now I couldn't recall if it was important to my plans or if it was merely something from the past. Still, it was likely to be Malak's place of power, and therefore the easiest location to find him. It would be well to know his whereabouts.

But still, any urgency in our search had somewhat forsaken me now. With no chance of training back on Dantooine without surrendering myself to the Jedi, there seemed little point in haste. And I still had to find a way to more permanently align myself with the attack-stance of the Force. While emotions _helped_ , they only went so far. No matter how angry or determined I was, I knew I was missing something.

My true alignment was too uncertain. There may be no titanic struggle within me, but as far as my connection to the Force was concerned that didn't matter one bit. I was missing a significant portion of who I was meant to be, and until I regained that strength any confrontation with Malak would be doomed to failure.

We passed a pair of merchants, but something in their banter made me pause. The one man's tone was jovial, but the other's sounded more forced. Almost hostile, but concealed by resignation.

He smiled in welcome as we approached. "Greetings to you. Something I can get for you?"

The other man cleared his throat. "Kindly direct your inquiries to me. Matton is merely an indebted employee, his opinions don't amount to much."

"What are you here for?" I asked.

"I am a merchant," he said, gesturing to containers and shelves of goods behind him. "Look well upon the wares of Eli Gand, I live to serve your needs."

"Just be sure to pay cash," Matton grumbled. "The interest on his loans will drain you like a Deluvian fatworm on a Hutt's backside."

"First off," Eli said, his expression tightening, "Butts are _all_ backside. And second, I don't much like the comparison. No need to get personal, it's just business." He turned back to me, waving a hand at Matton. "Poor fellow. He's been waiting for his friends to return with my money for a standard month now. Ah, but you don't need to hear this. What can I get for you?"

I glanced at my companions, shrugged. "If you have any high-end vibroblades or rare lightsaber crystals, I'll take a look at them. Otherwise, I think we're good."

"Nothing of that sort, I'm afraid," Eli said. "How long are you planning to remain on Edean? I have contacts, I could probably find something for you, but it wouldn't be cheap."

"Probably no more than a day or two," I told him. "We will be visiting Korriban in the near future, though, if you can locate any orange, gold, or off-red lightsaber crystals, arrange for them to be there for me."

He frowned. "Korriban is a dangerous world to do business on, especially with something like that. The locals would be inclined to take what they want and forget to pay."

"And you couldn't make _Sith_ stay and work for you," Matton put in.

"Quite," Eli said, then shrugged. "You do seem like the sort able to handle yourself, though. It won't be cheap, but I'll see what can be arranged."

I smiled. "Excellent."

* * *

Aside from a few Czerka guards trying to prevent us from venturing beyond the safety of the landing zone, we encountered no serious resistance as the four of us made our way along the Great Walkway. Between minor skirmishes with local wildlife, mostly forest kinrath, Z seemed on edge, but I didn't bother to ask him about it.

Then we reached a wide open section of platform, where a trio of Malak's dark Jedi minions stood waiting for us.

"Lord Malak was most—"

"—most displeased when he learned we had escaped Taris alive?" I interrupted. "What do you know."

"He has promised a great reward to whoever destroys you."

"Yeah, I bet he has. But did he mention exactly _who_ he was sending you to destroy?" I asked.

"His enemies," the dark Jedi answered, seemingly unconcerned.

"Well, I hate to ruin your last moments with pointless banter, but I am Revan and this is Bastila. You've probably heard of us both."

"Bastila we are to capture alive if possible, while Revan is long dead."

I smirked at him. "Oh?"

The Force flickered about me, lightning sparking across my body with eagerness. The dark Jedi seemed taken aback, then shrugged.

"Revan is dead, and you shall soon join him."

" _HER_ ," I retorted.

There was a single moment's pause, as the Force crackled and pulsed around us all, then the six of us sprang into action at the same moment, Z only a second behind. Three dark Jedi, three Revanite sisters, and one angry wookiee.

One enemy reached out with the Force to push me away from melee range. I smiled, not resisting the push. I didn't need to be in melee range.

A gesture sent my lightning pulsing and flaring, blasting out in front of me in an electric storm that parted around my allies and hit the two closest opponents. I wondered briefly how much effort it would take to combine lightning with force, to push them back with it as well.

Juhani jumped over our heads, engaging in a lightsaber duel with the third and farthest opponent. Z started forward, but the middle opponent, a dual-wielder himself and obviously the strongest of the trio, held out a hand. Faint purplish force energy gathered, blasted into Z's body and mind, leaving the wookiee cowering against the nearest tree trunk.

The wave of crippling fear passed through the rest of us as well, but after our encounter on Tatooine I would not be so easily taken out of the fight. Rage leapt to the front of my mind, shielding me from the effects of the attack, and neither Bastila nor Juhani seemed affected by it either.

I continued the stream of lightning, but he reached out and I felt a jolting _yank_ as life essence was torn from my body. I stumbled, caught my breath, but my lightning had faltered. The world seemed to slow as he raised his hand again, targeting me a second time. I stilled my instinct to resist, closed my eyes, and instead focused on the way the Force moved. Around him, around me, through us both. The link it created between us for just that second, pulling my strength away and toward him.

I reached my own hand, mirroring him, and mimicked the movement of the Force. It felt right, instinctive.

He seemed startled for a moment as I pulled away the strength he'd tried to steal, then narrowed his eyes and jumped toward me. He raised his hand again, and I grinned. Mirroring his motion yet again, I reached for his strength.

Fear, sudden and complete. I wasn't expecting it, wasn't prepared. But it wasn't like before, something was different. I backed away, glanced to the side.

Bastila had been overwhelmed. The nearest of the trio, the single-blade fighter, had somehow managed to insinuate utter terror into my second sister. She trembled in paralyzed fear, watching helplessly as his blade rose to end her.

"NO!" I screamed. I threw a lightsaber at his chest, forcing him to twist away and block. Another jolt hit me from behind, my energy pulled away again by the two-blade force master.

I was weakening, I could feel it. With Z and Bastila out of the fight, her fear still leaking into me, I wasn't sure I could take on both of these opponents.

But I had to.

Rage flared within me, and I transmitted my fury to Bastila as strongly as I could. _Break free, sister, resist!_

I spun and slashed, blocking strikes from three blades, charging lightning and lashing out between, but I could barely keep up with the two opponents.

I could have studied lightsaber combat more, could have focused my strength on shielding, could have become a healer. But those were not my path.

I reached out again, drained life energy away from Bastila's opponent. The distraction was enough that he faltered, and I kicked him away, adding a Force push to give me space and time. I spun to face the other, glimpsing Juhani fell her opponent and rush to engage the man I'd pushed away.

I smiled grimly, then blasted out with lightning at the two-saber enemy. He continued trying to drain my life, but this was _my_ ground. He would have been better served sticking to lightsaber combat, at least there my attention would be divided.

Z recovered first, rushing to help Juhani finish her fight. Bastila shook off the fear a moment later, and suddenly my strength was no longer halved. Bastila's life force joined with my own, and any weakness the attack had caused seemed minimal indeed.

She drew on the Force to heal us all anyway, bringing a rush of energy and confidence and strength.

My opponent tried to drain my strength one last time. I blasted lightning directly into his face. Bastila threw her double-ended saber. He put up a saber to block, but his main hand was too high from the drain pose to deflect properly. The double-ended saber hit his off-hand saber, glancing slightly off course, spinning about. If it had been a single blade, the block would have succeeded, ending with the blade pointed away from the dark Jedi.

The double-ended blade sliced across his chest, through his side. He staggered, fell under my continued stream of lightning.

Z and Juhani made almost equally quick work of their opponent. As the sounds of clashing sabers and crackling Force faded, the walkway grew still and quiet.

* * *

 _Author's Note : I'm not entirely happy with my depiction of Drain Life. It's an awkward video-gamey thing to write with, but kinda important. Ah, well. I may change it in future, if I'm feeling less lazy. Probably won't happen until I do a full draft-edit at the end, though.  
_

 _In other news, I have finally gotten around to the Darth Bane trilogy, and am constantly reminded of how much I love Star Wars. I truly love many things, but this is my one true fandom. No other franchise can hope to compete._


	30. Kashyyyk: Part 2

"How did they manage to overwhelm _you_?" I asked Bastila quietly. "You're so strong."

"I appreciate your confidence, Revan, but even I can only maintain my willpower for so long. They must have wanted to capture me very much. While that one seemed happy to kill you, they focused on mental attacks toward me and did nothing that could have injured me."

"Well, it seems Malak only wants _me_ destroyed." I chuckled. "And he hasn't deigned to tell his underlings why. He's a coward and a fool. This will only work to our advantage."

"How?"

I shrugged. I couldn't say exactly how I would turn his underlings' ignorance against him, but I would find some way to do so.

Bastila nodded. "I trust you, Revan."

Juhani may have missed the first time Bastila said it, thought I was just trying to intimidate our enemies earlier, but now she narrowed her eyes at me. "Revan?" She looked back and forth between us.

"It is my name," I said simply.

"I should not be surprised," Juhani said quietly. "I thought you reminded me of her."

"Oh?" I asked, surprised myself. "You knew Revan?"

"I would not say I knew her, but we did meet. She saved me from being sold into slavery as a child, on her way to fight the Mandalorian threat. It was she - _you_ \- who encouraged me to seek out the Jedi order. I have thought for some time that you had a similar aura, a similar confidence." Juhani looked away. "You do not remember me."

"I don't remember _anything_ , Juhani," I said. "When Malak turned on me, the Jedi captured me and rewrote my identity. I remember very little of Revan's life before I met Bastila on Taris."

"You speak as though you and Revan are two people," Juhani said.

"I still feel that way, sometimes. There's me, Revan, but also the past-Revan who I don't remember and know only from stories second-hand."

"It is difficult to lose your entire past," she said quietly. Something about her tone, the weight of it, caught my attention.

"Oh?" I asked, intrigued. "Why do you say that?"

"When Malak destroyed my home world I felt lost. I had not been there for many years, it was never a place I would think of fondly, but it was my home. My family lived and died there. I met you there, Revan, and it is then that my path truly started. It does not hold many happy memories, but it does hold some of my strongest. And now it is gone."

"Malak is a fool," I agreed. "We will destroy him, your world will be avenged."

Juhani looked away. "You do not understand. It was Malak who directed the ships, yes, but were it not for you, for Bastila, he would have no reason to do so."

"What do you mean?" Bastila asked. "Revan and I only met each other when my strike team captured him, and there was no planet Malak destroyed for that."

"Taris!" Juhani snapped. "My home for so many terrible years, but my home nonetheless. Malak wanted only you, both of you, he had no other reason to destroy my homeworld."

"I don't remember seeing any Cathar on Taris," I said.

Juhani snorted derisively. "Of course you do not. There were few enough of us, living in the lower city away from the more affluent and _human_ citizens' view. Only when they wanted to see how the 'wildlife' lived would they deign to set foot below their shining upper city."

"But it was still your home," Bastila said quietly.

Juhani spun on her. "Yes! And it was because of _you_ that it was destroyed. I've heard of your vaunted Battle Meditation, able to turn the tide of any conflict. Well where was that power when we needed it? Why could Taris not be saved?"

I couldn't help smiling. Juhani would be _perfect_ as my Third Sister. The Jedi had already condemned her once, letting her flee to the plains of Dantooine. I had saved her in the forgotten past, I had saved her from the Jedi's neglect on Dantooine, and I would save her once more.

"I cannot answer that," Bastila said. "I was caught up in the moment, afraid of Malak, afraid of what may happen to us. I doubt I could have reached meditation had I ever thought to try."

"It's not your fault," I said. "There was nothing we could do. It was more important to get you safely away, sometimes sacrifices must be made."

"Would you be so callous if it were Dantooine that were destroyed?" Juhani snapped, turning back to me.

I shrugged, still smiling faintly. I _so_ enjoyed arguing. "Well, yeah. Probably."

Juhani's breath hissed sharply. Her hands tightened into fists. "You think this is _entertaining_? You, always taunting, always pushing. You _want_ to see me fall again, don't you?"

"I want to see you fulfill your potential, Juhani," I said. "There is more to the Force than a simple dichotomy of the unemotional 'light' and the self-serving 'dark'. Leaving one does not mean you belong to the other. I do not want a calm facade of Jedi serenity, if your true self is one of passion and righteous anger."

"Trust me, Revan, you do _not_ wish me to act on my passions and anger right now," Juhani growled.

I shrugged. "Why not? Feeling aggressive? Want to get into a Force-heavy saber match with me? I'm not afraid of your anger, I want to hone it into a weapon for you to wield."

"You wish me to act on my rage?" Juhani spat, and her lightsaber was in her hand.

I grinned wider. "Come on, then," I said quietly. "Follow my lead."

I activated my main saber, leaving my off-hand empty and free for Force pushes, absorbing incoming powers, or channeling lightning if it came to that.

Juhani's own blade snapped on in instinctive reaction, but she didn't move to attack me. She stared at the blade before her, then slowly lowered the weapon and deactivated it.

"No," she said. She was breathing hard, but brought her reactions under control with astonishing swiftness. "I will not fall again. Not for your entertainment. Not for something that you truly could not have prevented."

"Oh, is this still about Taris?" I asked. "I thought it was about me."

"Of course you do," Juhani snapped. "In your arrogance you consider everything to be about you. You say you demanded myself and Bastila as yours when you fled the Jedi, but that does not mean that _we_ have no say in the matter. Perhaps I no longer believe in your cause. Perhaps I would be better off returning to Dantooine on my own, return to the Jedi, return to peace and the Light away from you and your constant temptation."

"The Jedi Order was never the path for you, Juhani," I told her, lowering and deactivating my own saber. "It was a starting point, not a destination."

"The destination is _you_?" she demanded.

"Perhaps. I do not lay claim to _all_ knowledge, Juhani. I can sense the strength within you, held back because you are afraid of it. Listen to me. There is so much you can do with your anger besides merely yelling and flailing about."

"I do _not_ yell and flail."

"It was not an accusation." I channeled my frustration into sparking electricity that danced around my empty hand. I cast it upward in a crackling arc that twisted and flickered against the sky, released the Force. "This is not the only thing the Jedi would flee from. It is incredibly useful, don't you agree?"

"I will not wield the power of the Dark Side," Juhani said.

"Tell me, what is the 'Dark Side'? No quoting old books and masters, mind, just tell me what you believe."

Juhani didn't hesitate a moment. "The Dark Side is a corruption, a temptation to selfishness that leads ever down into destruction. You have seen these fallen Jedi we face, you have felt them."

My brow furrowed. "They use different powers than you, that does not make them evil. They follow Malak for genuine belief in his cause. That only marks them as poor judges of character."

"Those who sought this very day to slay us, you would make excuses for them? Those traitors lying there, who any of us may have _trained_ with, who would rather kill and run wild for Malak than learn self-control and proper respect for life and patience?"

"You have seen darkness," I said gently. "You believe that the world is simple, Jedi are right, anyone who opposes them are wrong, like the slavers who once tried to sell you. Like the corrupt governments the Jedi oppose. But _Malak_ is the true threat right now, and beyond him whatever waits in the distant dark. We have no time to waste in petty squabbles over Jedi philosophy."

"Petty? Is that what you think my concerns are? Revan, listen to me. You were once a great Jedi, and you could be so again. The Jedi Council have given you the rarest of gifts, a chance to start over. Do not make the same mistakes that drove you into darkness in the first place."

"If I had allowed the Mandalorians to conquer the Republic, if I had let countless billions die to quench their bloodlust, when I held the power and will to fight, then all that death would be on my head as well as theirs." My voice was firm, unyielding. I would not, could not, back down on this. All I was had been built upon this foundation, that my decision to fight was correct and, more, imperative.

"I am not saying we should not fight evil," Juhani said, "but we should not fight evil by _becoming evil ourselves_."

"You believe I am evil?" I asked.

Juhani hesitated. "That is not what I meant. You are not as self-controlled as I would prefer, but. . ."

"You equate the Dark Side with evil, then?" I asked.

"Yes. The Dark Side leads ever downward into destruction."

"But you admitted yourself that I'm not evil. If the two are the same, wouldn't that mean that I am also not 'Dark Side'?"

"You twist my words. I never said that the Dark Side is only evil."

"So you admit there is more than just evil in the Dark Side?"

"No! That is _not_ what I said. You are _falling_ , every action you take is either moving you toward that darkness or at least not moving away. Right now, you still have a chance to turn back before it is too late. You can turn around."

"No."

There was no hesitation, no hint of give, no suggestion of uncertainty. I had been over this in my mind time and again, more times than I could remember, in the hours since we had left the _Ebon Hawk_.

"You will not accept the chance at redemption?" Juhani asked. "Perhaps you are truly lost."

"I will not surrender to the darkness, but neither will I surrender to the light," I said. "My path is mine, not dictated by any ancient ramblings. The Jedi Order has tried for years to stop Malak, and has made no progress at all. capturing _me_ was their greatest victory in years. Don't you see? Their job is to _maintain_ peace in the galaxy. It is our job to create it."

"You would seek to create peace by giving yourself to darkness?"

"No, that's what I'm trying to tell you. There is a difference between _using_ your darker impulses and _surrendering_ to them. I may seem arrogant, selfish, and erratic, but that's because I've been invaded to an unbelievable degree and I'm struggling to find my way back to who I'm meant to be. Is there anything more precious than your _self_ , Juhani? If I tore into your mind, rewrote you to follow me without question, would that not be worse than anything I have said or done thus far?"

"Yes," Juhani snapped. "Because it is not your place. The Masters know what they are doing, weighed the decision for _all_ the galaxy. If they offered to take this anger from me, allow me true peace, I would not refuse them."

My voice turned hard. "You would willingly throw away so great an asset merely to follow the teachings of non-interventionist fools? The Jedi have a place in the galaxy, perhaps even an essential one, but that does not mean that they are the ultimate _right_. They can fail, they can make mistakes, and they can do unforgivably cruel things without a second thought."

"You were given a chance to be better!" Juhani all but screamed. "You were given a new start, a new life, a new beginning. And instead of accepting it, you turn around and spit on the Council and their generosity, throw yourself back into a life of darkness without a moment's hesitation! Why can't you see how much you are throwing away?"

"Because it _isn't me_ , Juhani, just as sitting and quietly meditating isn't _you_. We can only be who we are. We can shape that into someone better, but not by denying the truth."

"Better?" Juhani demanded. "You think that your fall into darkness is making you _better_?"

"I am not falling," I said. "I am swimming deep, diving with the utmost care, but I am not going to allow myself to be pulled deeper than I choose. Not unless the only other choice is unacceptable."

I felt Bastila shift, her thoughts flickering back to the Council chambers, to my desperate flight from Dantooine. She knew exactly what would drive me to embrace the darkness without hesitation. Allowing the Jedi to rewrite my soul again was unacceptable to me. A direct confrontation there could have had only two outcomes; the destruction of myself or the Jedi fools who sought to control me.

I would put that day off as long as I possibly could. As much as I personally disagreed with most of Jedi beliefs, they did fulfill an essential role in the Republic, and if we were to stand strong against the threat beyond we could not afford to be squabbling amongst ourselves.

Dantooine for peace, Korriban for war, and myself to balance everything so they didn't destroy each other. I would be seizing control of the Sith academy, of course. Their focus on power and victory would make it a simple matter once my strength returned fully.

"Jedi who fall always say the same thing," Juhani pointed out. "They always believe that they have been lied to, that the truth was concealed, that they had some special gift to toy with darkness, or that they had discovered something new. It is all the same, the Dark Side is seductive and deceptive."

"You think I don't know that?" I asked. "You think I didn't watch every step as my best friend gave in to power, as he allowed himself to become less than he could have been for the sake of pure Sith strength?" I shook my head, driving thoughts of Malak away. I couldn't afford to think of him as a friend, he was only another enemy now. "I know better than anyone just how powerful and how dangerous that power is. But I also know how to use it against itself, how to twist it to my will and not let it twist me in return."

"And in your arrogance you will rise, and with your pride you will fall," Juhani said quietly. "I respected you once, Revan. It pains me to see how much you have become everything I cannot abide."

I wanted to refute her, but for once I couldn't think of anything to say.

* * *

 _Author's Note : This chapter is the one which took the longest for me to write. I was completely through Leviathan and halfway through Nar Shaddaa by the time I finally got back to finish this months later. I'm not entirely satisfied with it, on a general story flow sense, but quite pleased with it on its own merits. Arguments like this are just too much fun to write._


	31. Kashyyyk: Part 3

We wandered around the upper pathway for a while, taking out the occasional kinrath or aggressive flying creatures whose name slipped my mind. Z had been away from here long enough the whole platform was new to him. I didn't mind terribly, we weren't on any particular schedule right now. Our defence against the threat to the galaxy relied on Bastila and myself becoming stronger. Every little skirmish gave us that much more chance to practice our Force connection, our synchronized movements, our flow of battle.

Still, when we finally spotted a wookiee in the distance, I was quite eager to get on with it. I could vaguely sense the Star Map, far far beneath us, calling silently out to me.

"How do I get down to the shadowlands short of jumping over the edge and hoping something breaks my fall?" I asked. Even for a Jedi, the hundreds of feet beneath us would be difficult to survive in one piece.

"There is an elevator down," the wookiee replied, "but you require the chieftain's permission before you will be permitted access to the Shadowlands."

"Oh? Is this elevator well guarded?"

The wookiee frowned. Or I think he did, their facial expressions aren't exactly the most easily read. "It has a guard."

"One wookiee? No problem. Could you just point me in the right direction?"

Z looked uneasy. I ignored him.

"I will not," the wookiee blocking our path said. "You must speak to Chuundar."

At this, Z growled angrily. The other wookiee barely glanced at him, ignoring his presence pointedly.

"You know something about this, Z?" I asked, turning to my wookiee.

"Chuundar is my brother, but he should not be chieftain. Our father Freyyr was not so old that he would be gone yet."

"Huh," I said. "Interesting, but ultimately irrelevant. You, growl-face, get out of our way."

"No," the guard insisted. "Not unless you have permission from the chieftain."

I sighed, drew my lightsabers. A growl from Z stopped me.

"Please, do not harm him," Z begged.

"Why not? He's clearly obstructing our mission. I don't have time to negotiate with every petty leader who thinks I should. . . whatever they want."

"But he is of my people, and has done nothing to wrong you."

"He is _standing in my way_ and refusing to let us past. That's very wrong." I explained.

"I. . . I would speak to my _brother_. If Chuundar truly controls the tribe, I want to see if anything has changed, or if he is still the greedy arrogant fool I denounced."

"What happened?" I asked.

"He was dealing with _slavers_ ," Z growled, his tone edging on fury. "But he wove his clever lies and so I was the one banished. And here we return, Czerka with a shining new walkway and carrying my people away, and little Chuundar seemingly in control of the lands outside their boundaries."

"We are here for the Star Map, not your old family squabbles," I told him.

"This is _important_ , to me and to my people. If you do not come with me, at least give me leave to go myself."

"I thought you didn't want anything to do with your homeland?" I asked.

"That was before I heard what has happened here in my absence. If brother Chuundar has risen to power in truth, it is my responsibility to stop him."

I sighed, then turned back to the wookiee guard. "Take us to Chuundar, then. Let's get this straightened out so we can get back to business."

* * *

The wookiee village, Rwookworro I think it was called, was connected by similar platforms to those constructed for Czerka's use. I began to suspect that wookiees had probably constructed the newer walkways as well as these original areas.

Z grew more agitated the farther we walked, but apart from a low growling in his throat he didn't seem inclined to comment.

Our escort brought us to the chieftain's hut, then motioned us inside. I entered, surprised to see the black-furred chieftain accompanied by humans in Czerka uniforms in addition to his wookiee subordinates.

I motioned Z forward, he was the one who wanted to come here after all.

"Ah, brother Zaalbar," Chuundar growled softly, mockery in his tone. "I see you have found the benefit of working with humans during your long exile."

"I have sworn my life-debt to her," Z objected. "As she has no desire to _enslave my people_."

"You shouldn't speak in that tone," Chuundar said. "Things have changed here, and yet you are still a mad-claw with no claim to honor. I, however, am Chieftain."

"A Chieftain flanked by _slavers_ ," Z growled angrily. "How have you done this? You were always the runt, how have you deceived our people so completely?"

"I am no _runt_ ," Chuundar growled, anger flashing beneath his calm facade. He cleared his throat, calmed his voice. "The outsiders would have come with or without our encouragement, brother. This way, we are paid in return for the necessary loss of those who _we_ deem expendable. Would you rather we fought and died and lost so many more?"

Before Z could reply, Chuundar held up a paw. "We will have plenty of time to speak of these things, Zaalbar. You will remain here with me until your friends have completed a simple task for me."

"We only came here because Z wanted to talk to you," I told him firmly. "I am not going to waste my time on another's fool errand."

"It is a simple matter. Another wookiee has gone as mad as my brother here once did, been banished to the Shadowlands. Unfortunately, he is making himself a nuisance and upsetting my Czerka allies. It isn't good for business."

I frowned. "And what will you offer in exchange for this 'small favor'?"

Chuundar smiled. At least I think it was a smile. "Why, the return of your pet, of course. While I would not be allowed to detain _you_ as visitors to Edean under Czerka protection, they care nothing for what I do to a fellow wookiee."

"He's only here to talk," I growled. "You can't pretend you'll be able to detain him against my wishes. We are _Jedi_. It doesn't matter how many wookiees and Czerka allies you have, we could tear through your entire village without hesitation."

Juhani frowned, but I sensed Bastila's agreement. Enough was enough.

Z intervened again. "Please, do not slaughter my people. I will stay and talk with my brother, as we both desire. You can go find your map, and perhaps when you return we will have reached an agreement."

"I will not release Zaalbar to you until the other mad-claw is dead," Chuundar warned. "Whatever he says."

"And I could kill you right now," I retorted. "Your guards would be useless, and perhaps the next chieftain would be more cooperative."

"Please!" Z roared. "Just go seek out your map. You have their permission to enter the shadowlands, and you do not need me for a few hours at least!"

"Fine, have fun with your reunion," I muttered. "Come on sisters, we have a map to find."

* * *

The descent into the depths of wild Kashyyyk took longer than I would have guessed, but despite the relatively crude construction of the elevator it was a smooth and stable ride.

We disembarked, leaving the wookiee to return to his position above. I saw a small campfire nearby, three figures standing around it talking quietly.

They didn't look like wookiees. Czerka?

I approached the fire, hoping the strangers would know more about the layout of the shadowlands. Though I could sense the general direction of the Star Map through the Force, the massive roots and trunks and overgrowth of the planet's depths made for a maze that I knew nothing about navigating.

Two steps toward them, and I froze. Something rippled in the Force, a warning. I peered more closely at them, brought my focus away from the distant Star Map.

Instead of a friendly Czerka representative, or even a hardened hunter, the leader of the group was in fact a bald Sith lord with a pair of equally bald dark Jedi as backup. He grinned as he saw us, igniting his double-ended lightsaber and spinning it into a ready position.

I could sense the vast power that pulsed in tight control within this enemy. He was no weakling, no fool. He felt familiar to me, even, though I couldn't have placed him.

"At last, my search is over," he said, his voice dark and threatening despite its calm overtones. "I was beginning to fear someone else had killed you and deprived me of the pleasure."

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I am Darth Bandon, apprentice to the Dark Lord himself. You may have defeated the pathetic bounty hunter my Master sent after you, but you are no match for me!"

"First, Malak is a usurping fool," I said, drawing by blades. "And second, what bounty hunter?"

"Your words matter nothing to me, unless you wish to beg for your life?"

"Sure, uh. . ." I hesitated, forming a rapid battle plan and relaying it to Bastila through our bond. She began whispering rapidly to Juhani. "Oh Bandon, my grand-apprentice, please do not kill this old. . .master. . . mother?"

I winced. My attempt at clever wordplay had completely collapsed. But at least it caught Bandon's attention for its content if not the conveyance.

"You do remember," he whispered. "Interesting. My Master suspected you might, though all evidence seemed to the contrary. One so strong as you does not fall so easily to weaklings and fools like the Jedi. But your time is passed. You were defeated once by my Master, and now you shall fall the final time at my hand."

I smirked. "Ah, well. Didn't like my begging?" I asked.

"Pitiful though the attempt was, no amount of begging could save you now. I will do my best to make this quick and _painful_."

Bandon's two backup-Jedi ignited their blades as their Sith master strode toward us. Juhani, Bastila, and I activated our own weapons, spread out into the formation I'd devised.

Now I just had to hope we were strong enough to face this challenge.

Bandon headed straight for Bastila, dual-saber flashing against dual-saber. The two dark Jedi closed in on me. Fine. I grabbed one with the Force, choking him and keeping him immobilized while Juhani intercepted the second before he could reach me.

Bastila struggled to keep up with the Sith's speed and strength, but between racing adrenaline and my fear for her safety my Force strength surged. Holding both dark Jedi immobile, crushing the breath from them, suddenly seemed as simple as instinct. Juhani didn't hesitate to take advantage of my momentary hypercompetence, cut them both down before they finished choking.

She quickly gathered the Force into healing and strengthening, wrapped it around Bastila just in time. Bandon was keeping her attention far too focused on trying to block his rapid heavy lightsaber attacks for her to have time to heal herself.

I nodded thanks to Juhani, and together we sprang toward the unsuspecting Sith lord's back.

Of course, the Force warned him of our approach. He spun just in time to block my sabers with his own, twisting and jumping high and away from Bastila's retaliatory attack at the same instant. For a moment, Bastila and I stood facing each other, our opponent slipped away, then his saber battered down on me as he came back to the ground. The force of the blow sent me staggering backward, but I wasn't too disoriented to lash out with a quick burst of lightning to distract him.

He _caught_ it on his lightsaber. Not all of it, I could tell at least part of the attack hit him, but a significant fraction of the lightning just vanished without effect.

"Sithspit," I muttered, as Darth Bandon laughed and focused his attention on me.

"I see my foolish underlings were insufficient," he said quietly. He spun suddenly, pressing terror into Bastila's mind.

And, by extension, my own.

This was no weak fallen Jedi's attempt to cower us. Unlike the past, this had the full weight of a determined Sith Lord behind it. Even transmitted secondhand, the fear was enough to freeze me in my tracks. I couldn't think. I could barely _breathe_. I knew without the slightest doubt that I would die, that Bastila would die, that this was the end of our quest.

Through the haze of helpless terror, I saw flashes of light against light, clashing blades.

I couldn't care, couldn't hope. I was so afraid, I just wanted it to end. Death would be preferable, the comforting void of emptiness, or whatever came after.

 _Fear_.

Force hit me, threw me back. My off-hand saber fell from my hand, tumbled to the ground and deactivated.

I trembled, cowered, waited for the inevitable end.

Juhani's furious scream echoed across the clearing as darkness suddenly crushed into me. Not _me_ , I realized, as the fear faded from my mind.

 _Bastila!_

The shock of her sudden absence combined with sudden clarity and fury. Her terror no longer echoed through me, my own fear was overridden by vengeful rage. They kept trying to take her from me. She was _MINE_!

I blasted out toward Bandon with lightning, but he caught it again, this time absorbing the entirety of the attack on his lightsaber blade. With an almost mocking gesture, he pushed out with enough Force to send me flying backward and away. Bastila was unconscious, her mind still and quiet, but not gone. She would survive, if any of us did. Juhani was caught up in a vortex of spiraling Force energy, tossed about and unable to aim, but. . .

"Juhani, heal us now!" I called to her, fully aware that Bandon had gotten at least several minor strikes on each of us. Burns across my arm and leg slowed my movements, pain interfering with my focus.

Though caught in a maelstrom and spinning dizzily about, Juhani nodded confirmation. I rushed to distract Bandon, and Juhani landed unsteadily on the ground. Without hesitation, she brought the Force around us both. Healing, strengthening. _'Light Side' Jedi do have their uses,_ I was forced to acknowledge, to myself if to no one else.

Bandon pushed her away, then I felt the familiar sickening _yank_ as he drained away my newly-recovered strength. Growling furiously, I pushed at him with as much electrical fury and Force energy I could. The crackling wall of force stopped as he held up his own hand, pushing back against it.

"You shouldn't engage in Force duels with those who are better strategists than you," I hissed, grinning.

Bandon wasn't distracted. He smiled, his superior strength forcing my attack back toward me, inch by inch, the power building between us as I pressed more lightning and forward kinetic energy into the assault.

He took a single step forward, then stiffened, the Force warning him of his danger. I knew he couldn't overpower me in time and couldn't turn to face Juhani's attack from behind without being hit with the full force of my attack.

He could have ducked to the side and stopped fighting me, accepted the lightning and used the push from my own attack to get him away from Juhani, but from everything I sensed about him he would be too arrogant to take that route. He wouldn't accept losing this duel even as the only way to survive. If he could even see it.

He charged toward me, roaring with hot fury that sparked and added to the storm held between us, but it wasn't enough.

Juhani's lightsaber speared through his back, out his chest. He lost focus and the full force of my electrified push blasted into him with a boom like thunder. He flew backward, dead before he hit the ground. Scorched, charred, a jagged lightsaber hole through his torso.

I breathed out to calm my racing heart, then rushed to Bastila's side. She was alive, and mostly uninjured. Whatever Force ability Bandon had used to knock her out, she would survive.

I grinned at Juhani, relief flooding me. "Nice work, sister."

I slumped to the ground, sat beside Bastila, began dragging my taught emotions back to calm. If Z had been here, he could have carried her, but I was too weak and tired to think of moving right now.

I had to do something about this. These Sith had far too much easy access to my mind and emotions.

I took Bastila's hand in mine, waiting for her to awaken, and planned my next move.


	32. Kashyyyk: Part 4

The moment Bastila was awake and strong enough to travel, I turned our expedition around then and there, returning to the _Ebon Hawk_ to talk to Canderous and look through our ever-growing pile of looted items.

 _I really should sell these sometime,_ I mused as I stacked a giant wraid plate and several smaller ones from Tatooine out of my way. Our cargo hold was filling up again. _Smuggler habit? Or am I just a hoarder?_

"Ah, like this?" I asked, holding up a small implant. I've had implant ports for as long as I can remember, but until recently I never actually bothered finding anything to put in them.

"That one increases your muscle reaction, speed and dexterity," Canderous said. He chuckled, then crossed to a different storage container and dug out a similar small transparasteel box with a somewhat larger implant. "Try this one."

I frowned at it. "You sure?"

Canderous nodded. "I have one much like it myself. It will protect your mind from outside influence."

"Like those Dark Jedi's favourite _fear_ attack," I muttered angrily.

I was well and truly fed up with losing control when fighting. Especially against an opponent as strong as Darth Bandon. It was hard enough contending with his _Force_ attacks without having to deal with _emotional_ ones as well.

"Try it," I said, but hesitantly. I wasn't sure if my bond with Bastila would be considered 'outside influence' and I didn't want to technologically jeopardize it.

I held my hair out of the way while Canderous checked the tiny device over to ensure the connections were clean, then gently inserted it. Nothing changed for a long moment, and I was relieved to still feel Bastila's emotions as clearly as my own. There was a faint vibration, not quite a hum, which I imagined would be mildly distracting for a few weeks until I got used to it. But if it really could protect me from mental intrusions, it would be well worth it.

"Bastila doesn't have implant ports," I said aloud, turned to Canderous. "Is there an external version of this on the market?"

Canderous shrugged. "There may be, but I don't think we have one here. However, I seem to remember. . ." He paused to rummage through a locker, then nodded and held up the item. "This belt advertises similar effects, though less comfortable and more apt to shorting out."

"Do you know anywhere we can get Bastila implant ports without making an appointment and waiting for a month?"

He shrugged. "Mine are all Mandalorian. After the war, I doubt any of those places are in business any longer."

"I'll have Mission look around for something, then," I said. "In the meantime, the belt will have to do. Thanks for the help."

Canderous nodded. "I'm here if you want something done right."

I brought the belt to Bastila, offered it to her. She was just as furious about being constantly driven to mindless fear as I, and said she would not mind a bit of discomfort if it would protect her from such attacks in the future.

Our minds as safe as we could reasonably get them in short order, I headed to Mission's room.

I had forgotten about our little stowaway until Sasha grabbed me around the middle, babbling something that took a moment to translate.

"You were worried for me?" I asked, frowning down at her. She tilted her head up and babbled more of her barely-comprehensible mangled Mandalorian.

"Sasha," Mission admonished, winking at me. "Be polite. Do you remember the greeting I taught you?"

Sasha took a step back and gave a shy half-curtsy. "Walcome home," she said in heavily accented but understandable basic.

I grinned. "Thank you, Sasha." She didn't seem to understand, so I repeated it in as close an approximation as I could of her mangled dialect. She smiled up at me, then scampered cheerily over to Mission.

"So," I said, turning my attention to the twi'lek hacker, "I actually came here to ask if you knew of or could locate an on-demand implant installation facility of at least moderate repute. It has come to my attention repeatedly and very clearly that we are neglecting certain necessary defences."

Mission did a few holonet searches, ran a sorting algorithm, and within a few minutes brought up a list of facilities that may fit my criteria.

"Most of the ones open to walk-ins are on Nar Shaddaa," she said, scanning the list. "There are some fancy ones on Coruscant, but those are probably out of your price range."

"Nar Shaddaa isn't too far out of our way," I decided. "Once we finish here, we can spare a few days' detour before heading to Korriban for the last map. Thanks, Mission." I bad Sasha farewell in both basic and her dialect, hoping she would grasp the correlation, then collected Bastila and Juhani.

Time to head into the Shadowlands.

* * *

The elevator was still manned by the same wookiee, but as we reached the bottom the dark depths of the forest floor seemed dimmer and more foreboding. Perhaps it was the lack of Darth Bandon's campfire, perhaps just the gloom of the near-failure that loomed over me.

We made our way around massive tree trunks, around bramble as thick as a jungle, and slowly began closing in on where I sensed the Star Map in the distance.

Forest predators attacked us from time to time, foolishly considering a trio of Jedi as weak. I didn't know enough about the Force to scare them away or tame them, so we just fought our way through them.

I briefly considered how long it would take three Jedi (or ex-Jedi} to cut down a wroshr tree, but the circumference of the trunk alone would make it a daunting prospect. Definitely not worth the effort, easier by far to find a way around.

Then we came upon a pack of katarn, surrounding a single human. Defending himself with a _lightsaber_.

I stopped short and stared as he single-handedly finished off the entire pack without a single bite or slash landing on him. His technique wasn't particularly elegant, but it was efficient and practical. He waved his blade in salute as he noticed us watching, deactivated it and returned it to his belt.

"Watch yourselves," he told us gruffly. "There are more of these crawling beasts hiding in the underbrush."

"A bit large to be called 'crawling beasts'," I pointed out. Each katarn was nearly as tall as my chest, heavily muscled, and probably outweighing the lot of us combined.

"Bah, they're small enough once you meet the rest of the wildlife hereabouts." He nodded for no clear reason. "I'm Jolee Bindo, if you'll follow me to my camp we can talk in relative comfort."

"Are you a Jedi?" Juhani asked quietly.

"Ah, don't start fawning just yet, I'm too old for it," Bindo said, and sighed. "I know a few things, but we can talk about it all at my camp. It's nearby, under a log. Yes, yes, I live like some burrowing rodent. I fought the Sith upon a time, and now look at me. . . hmph."

Grumbling all the while, the old fellow jogged off down a twisting path through the underbrush and around tree trunks. Then, beneath a fallen tree, we came to a door and windows carved into the ancient trunk. Even with the aid of a lightsaber, that must have been the work of months to hollow out a large enough area to be usable as a campsite. Or a more permanent residence?

"Welcome to my home, such as it is," Bindo said, gesturing. "Pull up a stump and be comfortable. We should discuss a few things."

"You use a lightsaber in battle," Bastila pointed out. "Are you a Jedi? Why do you hide here and no longer fight the Sith as you say you once did?"

"Slow down there," the old man said. "I follow the Jedi way and command the force, yes, but what of it? I'm old, I'm entitled to retire to a lovely wild planet. Though, admittedly, I've seen enough of these trees to last the rest of my lifetime."

"Do you know how to reach the Star Map?" I asked. "I sense it, but the way is confusing. We've already had to backtrack twice due to dead ends."

"Ah, yes. Nevermind the problems of a few wookiees, you're here for the map." He sighed. "So impatient."

"I would dispute that, but in this case you're actually correct," I said pointedly. "Tell me what you know, or if you can't help let me know so we can continue on our way."

"Is it too much to ask for a bit of company?" Bindo groused. "I've been here a long time with only the wildlife and occasional wookiee to speak to, those Czerka fools aren't worth the conversation."

"We didn't come here to idly converse," I said. "Your camp is lovely, but if you can't assist us we should get going."

"I'm not saying I won't help, but there are conditions."

"Seriously?" I asked.

"Oh, save it. I know you want everyone to drop everything to help you along, but I'm not asking for much. I have one simple test for you, then you must allow me to join you."

"You plan to come with us?" Bastila asked. "For how long?"

"Who knows? You'll need my help if you want to reach your precious map, and I've seen quite enough of Kashyyyk to suit me. I presume you have a ship, and I can clearly see you have a destiny. Perhaps it will be interesting to watch."

"So we have to agree to be stuck with you indefinitely if we want to find the map?" I asked, my temper heating a bit. "Why would we ever agree to that? We can find our own way."

"Look, you can stumble around on your own, but there are literally walls in your way. I've been here long enough, seen enough, that I can get you past them. My task won't take you long, and allowing me to join you will save time in the end."

"I don't need a grouchy old Jedi on my ship," I said firmly. I had my own plans, this was _my_ mission, and the absolute _last_ thing I wanted was someone attempting _oversight_.

"Bah, I'll keep out of your way."

"I have no intention of adhering to the 'Light'," I said. "I'm not going to give up on my path, whatever you say."

"I'm not here to judge," Bindo said. "I've seen my share of Dark, and Light, and both extremes frankly annoy me. I know what you are, and it doesn't bother me any more than what _they_ are." He gestured at Juhani and Bastila.

I sighed. "Then we could take you on as a _passenger_ , as long as you find some way to earn your keep."

"I'm a fine healer, and know more about herbs than the lot of you kids possibly could combined. Don't worry about me, I'll be useful. Plus you can learn from my experience and wisdom." He chuckled as he said this, and I wasn't sure if it was because he really thought we needed it or because he wasn't actually wise.

"So what is this task we must do for you?" Bastila asked.

"Simple. There is a group of Czerka poachers nearby, who have refused to listen to my requests that they leave. You three young ones convince them to leave, then come back to me and we'll go visit your map."

"You're _leaving_ with us to _another planet,_ why do you care about some Czerka poachers?" I asked, not entirely pleased by the prospect.

"I told you, it's a test," the old man insisted.

"A test of _what_?"

"That would be telling, wouldn't it?"

I growled. "I'm getting tired of your presence already."

"Then I'm sure we'll get along splendidly," he said. "Now shoo, you have a test to finish."

I really wanted to slap him, preferably with _lightning_ , but if he was telling the truth about being the quickest way to reach the map. . . (and Jedi may be dishonest but they rarely outright lied to your face) then I had little choice in the matter.

I didn't bother replying, spun away and stalked down the twisting path between trees.

"They're the other direction," the old man called after us, but I didn't slow or turn around. I did _not_ need him or want his advice.

* * *

A few minor skirmishes with the wildlife later, with a few pauses to rummage through foolish travelers' forgotten belongings, I finally started feeling less furious about the old fool and his ridiculous test. We hadn't located any more of Malak's Jedi down here, and I sensed nothing of them about. Perhaps Darth Bandon was his last-effort attempt at capturing us. Which, considering the fact that we _survived_ his attack, did bode well for our future efforts.

It was _troubling_ that they kept finding us, but there was only so much secrecy or anonymity possible when traveling the galaxy. Besides, by now Malak had to be aware that we were visiting Star Map planets, and there were only five of them to choose from.

 _Only five. . ._

For some reason, that realization made me concerned for the Jedi back on Dantooine. They thought they were secret. Why would they think that? They knew Malak had visited there before, with Revan before the fall. But just because we hadn't started conquering stuff yet didn't mean Malak would _forget_ the location of the Jedi enclave!

Jedi are idiots. Sith are idiots. They all make me furious.

I blasted a stalking katarn before it could spring, venting my fury through lightning.

I suddenly found myself aware of Bastila. She felt. . . curious. Not quite like she wanted to stop me, nor like she wanted to join in. More waiting, observing, as though trying to understand something foreign.

 _What is this darkness, even?_ I asked myself quietly. You couldn't change your beliefs just because you wanted to. You could _say_ they were different, _act_ like they were different, but changing yourself so drastically wasn't just a simple decision.

Depending on whether the Force responded to actual beliefs, or if it reacted to physical actions, that would change a lot. I found myself frustrated yet again at all we don't know. The Jedi have been around for millenia, and still haven't bothered figuring out the mechanics of their so-called 'light' and 'dark' sides.

Anger and hatred attract one type of Force ability, peace and calm flow smoothly with another. Depending on how exactly the Jedi saw the powers they were using, it suddenly seemed incredibly reasonable and obvious why they were so slow to act. If their Light Side was really just the flow of calm peace, then of course building an entire way of life around it and upholding it as all that was good would lead to stagnation and apathy.

And the Sith, by embracing their emotions so fully, without tempering that power with knowledge and wisdom, focusing solely on themselves and not on the greater harmony, of course they would destroy themselves.

I jumped back as a rustling and flash of motion warned me of a charging katarn, brought my sabers up to intercept the leaping beast. Its head a good armspan higher than mine, this one was massive and wily. It turned just short of my blades, ducking its huge head and lashing out toward me with its heavy foreleg. I didn't see the move coming quickly enough. My reverse slash seared into the creature's leg, but not before it impacted me hard.

The sheer weight behind the blow knocked me back, but Juhani and Bastila were already moving to finish the creature off as I regained my feet. I added some quick lightning for good measure.

"You'd think with Jolee around these creatures would have learned to avoid Jedi by now," Bastila said. "Or," she amended, "Force-wielders of any variety. I suppose we can't call ourselves Jedi any longer."

She felt sad at that, mildly so, and I didn't blame her one bit. I understood exactly how much she had given up for me, and I would always be grateful.

"We are Jedi," Juhani said, frowning. "Why would we not be?"

"I may have defied the Council to their faces, run away when they wanted to give me 'advice', and knocked Vrook-grouchface on his rump with the Force," I admitted. "I didn't tell you about it, but we've kind of been exiled from the Jedi. I also demanded you as part of my severance package, so you can be my Third Sister. If you want."

"What are you talking about, padawan?"

"Ah, no. I'm Revan, or Lord Revan, or Master. Not padawan, and not Jedi. No longer. I am the head of the Revanite Sisters. And yes, that's what I'm calling us now, and no, we do not make exception for gender or species. A male twi-lek would still be called a sister. I decided that just now, but it is final."

 _You should probably rethink that decision_ , Bastila thought to me pointedly, but was polite enough not to say anything aloud in front of our potential initiate.

"I may rethink that decision in future," I amended. "Admittedly, I'm not in the best of temper right now. Though it would be highly entertaining to induct our other friends on the ship. Sister Canderous, Sister Onasi. . ." I snorted with barely-suppressed laughter.

So tempting.


	33. Kashyyyk: Part 5

We rounded a tree and came upon a small campfire, accompanied by a wookiee. He glanced us over and growled that we were not permitted to follow him on his hunt.

"Are you the banished mad-claw?" I demanded. "We were sent to kill you."

He denied it, of course, but I wasn't going to fall for such trickery. I activated my sabers and charged, and he growled angrily and turned into a giant beast with massive claws.

"Oh," I said quietly. Despite his new form, I quickly realized this was _not_ the mad-claw wookiee we were sent to kill. Wookiees were not known for their shapeshifting abilities. This couldn't be anyone but Rulan Prolick, one of my Genoharadan targets.

 _What is the Genoharadan, and why do you seem so concerned about it?_ Bastila asked.

I suppose it was inevitable. Once we started communicating in thoughts and words instead of just emotions and sensations, she would pick up on my one secret.

 _Bounty hunters/assassins,_ I explained silently as we leapt into battle. Juhani quite literally so, jumping over Rulan's massive head and landing spryly on his back. Her balance was superb, though whatever he had shapeshifted into was clearly both Force- and lightsaber-resistant. A very good choice when faced by a trio of Jedi— no, Revanites.

Though to be fair, he probably thought we were Jedi. We looked like Jedi.

I needed to find a new colour of blade and dedicate it completely to us. Purple? Too obvious?

 _You won't distract me as easily as you distract yourself,_ Bastila prompted. _Who is this Rulan and why are we supposed to kill him?_

 _The Genoharadan are the most secret group of assassins and bounty hunters ever. They claim to be older than the Republic, I think. This guy is a shapeshifter who was known to be hunting in the region. I'd honestly forgotten he was down here until he turned into a giant. . . whatever that is._

 _Terentatek,_ Bastila provided. _There was a scholar at the academy on Dantooine who studied such beasts._

 _Well, his hide seems to be lightning-resistant._ I gave up on blasting him with electricity and switched to sheer crushing Force around his throat and chest. Apparently even a terentatek needed to breathe, and as I held him still the other two were able to finally cut through his saber-resistant (but not immune) hide.

Suddenly and without warning, I held nothing. He shrank rapidly into a common scampering rodent and ran off, favouring one foreleg but still outpacing us.

"That's just not fair," I said quietly. "Come on, let's catch him before he gets clean away."

Using the Force to give us a speed advantage, we ran after the tiny creature. Before we could catch him, though, he integrated into a small herd of the things, hopping about and squeaking in high-pitched irritating chirps. If he was still favoring his injured limb, it wasn't immediately obvious from where we stood watching.

I chuckled. "Clever attempt, but not good enough."

The lightning was waiting for me, and it took no more than a moment to annihilate the entire swarm of the creatures.

One swelled and returned to a humanoid form, lying quite dead. And equally obviously not a wookiee.

"Guess he wasn't our target after all," I told Juhani, shrugging. I collected his few belongings of any value and started back off down the trail.

"You attacked him without provocation and killed him," she said, not appeased in the least. "A complete stranger."

"I _threatened_ to attack him, and he turned into a Force-resistant monster and attacked _us_ ," I corrected

"And he tried to flee. He was no threat."

 _Back me up here, Bastila,_ I thought.

She glared at me, but I reminded her pointedly that she had agreed to follow me anywhere. _It isn't easy choosing to shift your way of thinking,_ I pointed out. _Each action will take effort._

"He obviously wasn't supposed to be down here," Bastila said. "The wookiees gave no mention of anyone but Czerka and their own mad exiled fool. It was a reasonable assumption."

"I didn't realize Kashyyyk housed wild shapeshifters," I added, "but at least we took him out before whatever nefarious plot could come to fruition. There is no good reason for anyone to be impersonating a wookiee down here unless he was planning some kind of trouble."

Juhani didn't look convinced, but she let the matter drop.

 _So, in addition to being a Republic hero and a Sith lord, you are an assassin and bounty hunter for this secret group?_ Bastila asked.

I sighed. "Yes, I am many things."

Oops, that was aloud.

Juhani gave me a strange look, then narrowed her eyes at us. "Are you two talking silently now?"

"We can transfer thoughts as well as emotions through our bond at present, yes," Bastila said.

"It is rather confidential," I said quietly. "Sorry, Juhani. But do you want to be my Third Sister? The offer won't be open forever, you may end up with a later number if you wait too long."

"Please, explain what you are talking about. I do not understand."

We reached another dead end. I sighed and turned us back toward the crazy old man's house. He apparently wasn't lying when he said it was the other direction. And, for that matter, I realized I was more tired than I'd anticipated. Between all the running around we'd done, it looked like Kashyyyk wouldn't be a one-day expedition.

"We may have to spend the night with crazy over here," I muttered.

"What?" Juhani asked.

"Oh, right. You asked a question. So, I founded a new group of Force-wielders. The Revanite Sisters. Though, admittedly, the name and code are still in progress. I've been working on something, but I don't think I've found quite the right wording yet."

Juhani frowned. "Why?"

"Well, we can't be Jedi anymore, and I certainly don't want to deal with the reputation and existing codes of the Sith either. Both extremes are dumb."

"You sound like Jolee," Juhani said.

"Hah! No. He's definitely a light-leaning Jedi-type grey person. I'm more a dark-leaning lightning-type grey person. Not the same at all. Just because sensible people or those with enough experience are irritated by both sides doesn't mean everyone who's annoyed by the extremes is sensible."

"You contradict yourself, padaw— Revan."

I shook my head emphatically. "No, it's not a contradiction. Definitions are useful and fun things, and mine was quite articulate and accurate."

"I have wanted to be a Jedi since I was a child," Juhani said. "Why would I choose to become a. . . 'Revanite Sister' instead now that I finally have found my dream?"

"First, you wanted to become a Jedi because you met _me_. Right?"

She nodded.

"I discovered that the Jedi are wrong. You should join me instead."

"I do not agree with much of your behavior of late," Juhani said quietly. "You are not the same Revan I met so long ago. You have changed, and not for the better."

"It is for the sake of saving the galaxy that I do this."

"So you believe. Is that not the way of the Dark Side? Convincing us that we have no better option?"

I shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I don't believe in the Dark Side as it's presented, though I won't deny the power aggression can offer. And right now, we need that power. We barely survived against Malak's _apprentice_. He couldn't have been training him more than a few years at most."

 _You don't believe your arguments any more now than you did with me,_ Bastila pointed out silently.

 _And whose fault is that?_ I snapped back. _You're the lightside Jedi, you're probably corrupting my desires with your own._

"The Light has the power to defeat the Dark," Juhani said, interrupting our mental argument. "We need not become what we fight in order to win."

"Oh? And how well has the _Light_ been doing so far during this war? Let's recap: _I_ won the Mandalorian Wars almost single-handed. Me, by _defying_ the Jedi and going to war. Then what? Oh, right. _I_ took over vast portions of the Republic with barely any opposition. Your grand plan to save yourselves was to take _me_ out, which turns out to have been a _terrible_ idea since my former friend/apprentice-turned-betrayer is an idiot when it comes to ruling anything."

I paused for breath, and Juhani cut in.

"You can't possibly be that arrogant."

"Arrogance is an important trait in a leader," I retorted. "Self-doubt is not helpful."

Bastila scoffed at me mentally. "Confidence is not the same as arrogance, and the latter is just as often found in those who doubt themselves as those who are confident."

"You're both distracting the issue."

"And what issue is that?" Juhani asked.

"I am going to get whatever power I need, whatever I can. Dark or light or something else entirely, I will destroy Malak and Kareth, and I will protect the galaxy against whatever else is waiting out there."

"Waiting out there?" Juhani asked.

"Yes, out there. Beyond the galaxy. In the unknown darkness, the outer regions where no one travels. I sensed it before, something beyond darkness, beyond what we can understand. Waiting, watching us squabble and crumble. It wants us weak, and I have no intention of allowing that to happen."

I held up a hand. We'd nearly reached Bindo's hut. "We can discuss it another time if you wish, right now we need to rest and prepare to tackle this irritating jungle again in the morning."

"Forest, not jungle," Juhani corrected.

I ignored her.

* * *

The crazy hermit was willing enough to let us stay, though his home was not exactly spacious. Also, he _snored_. Loudly and much of the night. It made my sleep uneven, but at least I didn't have any inexplicable dreams. Right then, I wasn't sure I'd have been able to take it.

I felt constantly tense, on the edge of something. Probably just a side effect of the constant emotional confusion of late. When we reached Nar Shaddaa, I really should just take a month or so off and relax. The final map on Korriban could wait, surely. The nebulous threat wouldn't attack _right away_. I could let Juhani see more of the galaxy. Though she'd seen plenty of darkness in her time on Taris, I wanted her to understand the shades of variation that could be present.

Could the fate of the galaxy wait? I sighed. Could I afford to _not_ wait? If I burned myself out trying to rush too hard, who could say what might result. Perhaps a vacation would be the greatest good I could do with the time.

It was a long night, and Bastila seemed as restless as I. Though I tried to block her from my rambling thoughts we were so closely connected now that no amount of attempted shielding would sever us.

The strength of our bond pleased me, most of the time, though it did infect me with Bastila's constant Jedi doubts about the path I'd chosen, and made it harder than I'd anticipated to do anything particularly 'dark'. And, more troublingly, even to _think_ particularly darkly.

I knew instinctively that embracing emotion was only one step to power. It wasn't the whole path, far from it. Anger and hatred would only go so far. In the short run, it was quick and easy power. The long run, it would remain a weak and shallow connection to the attack powers.

Part of me, or at least part of Bastila, wondered if that wouldn't be enough. If we could just use surface power, not actually commit to a deeper path.

What she had a hard time accepting, what I knew as truth, was that I had already chosen my path years before. My actions now were only trying to find my way back to that path, my original and true destiny.

 _And how ever many times you explain it to yourself, it still won't remove my doubts,_ Bastila thought pointedly. _Or your own. Now stop thinking and go to sleep._

It was a long night.

* * *

We followed the trail the grouchy hermit told us about, which did indeed lead us to a semi-permanent Czerka encampment. Their leader was a firm-faced and annoyed-looking man who made it very clear that if we wanted to stumble around the Shadowlands playing tourist he would make no move to protect us. And if we got in his way, he wouldn't be particularly nice about removing us.

Still, during the conversation I learned a few useful things. They needed the sonic emitters and the troops to maintain their perimeter or they'd have to leave. They offered to pay us for any tach glands we could hunt, but I declined the offer. The payment was minuscule, not worth the time or effort.

Also, my task was to send them away, not help them make a profit.

I approached one of the perimeter guards instead. We chatted for a minute, and I found the weakness in his position. With a bit of Force suggestion, I tried to persuade him that it would be in his best interests to quit the job and go home.

He nodded, seeing the sense in it, and marched over to the boss to hand in his resignation.

The leader shouted at him for a minute, then shot him in the chest.

I stared. He would kill his own men for so little? Perhaps a change of strategy was in order.

I moved to the other side of the camp, where three guards stood close to their emitters and within easy speaking range of each other. They looked at me warily, obviously concerned.

"Did you see what he did?" I asked quietly. "The poor man just wanted to go home, and your commander just executed him right there. That can't have been in your contracts, was it?"

They muttered quietly among themselves, but didn't seem inclined to do anything.

"If he cares so little, you really think he'll protect you if wild animals break in? He'd leave you all to die. You should give up on this expedition."

"Then the commander would just shoot us all too," the guard nearest to me said. "It's too risky."

I glared at him flatly, then shrugged. "I hate to have to do this, but I need you fellows gone. I gave you the chance to leave willingly."

They glanced uneasily at each other, but didn't make a move.

Targeting each emitter, I began blasting them with lightning until they overloaded and shorted out. The nearby wildlife, formerly keeping a wary distance from the uncomfortable emissions, began growling and closing in.

"I'm afraid I'm just _playing tourist_ right now," I told the leader with a smirk as he turned furiously toward us. "As easy as it would be for me to take out all these aggressive creatures, you've given me no reason to be cooperative."

He looked about ready to shoot _me_ , which would have been foolish, but fortunately for him he just barked orders to his workers.

"We're leaving," he told me, "but you haven't heard the last of this. You can't just come in here and sabotage our operations with impunity."

"Lord Revan," I told him. "Nice to meet you. I'll be on Korriban if you need me."

He glowered, but waved to his remaining guards. They began a hasty retreat, pursued by eager katarn and other predators.

I helped myself to the contents of their hastily-evacuated camp. They had grabbed everything of greatest value, but there were a good number of trinkets and smaller equipment that could be useful for our team. Or valuable.

When I hit Nar Shaddaa, I would have to shop around for somewhere worth selling it all to. We had a few thousand credits, but with our cargo hold well stocked with all the items I'd appropriated over the weeks that number could easily double. Or triple.

I glanced up at the trees that towered above us, seeming endless. Kashyyyk was a beautiful place, but a bit too wild to be a popular tourist destination. If you could domesticate the kinrath, arrange an energy field to keep the flying creatures at bay, and set up a network of wookiee-style homes in the middle terraces, it could be a lovely resort.

But that was Czerka's problem. Mine was finding the way back to crazy old Bindo so he could 'remove obstacles' and get us to the Star Map as quickly as possible.


	34. Kashyyyk: Part 6

The old hermit led us steadily through the twisting paths, confident and unfaltering. He rambled on about his life as we walked, pointing out the place where he'd first seen this creature, or where he'd been ambushed by those, or where he saved a nest of something else. . .

I found it all very pointless, until he started talking about his far distant past, among the Jedi. This was at least mildly relevant, so I had less inclination to snap at him to be silent.

Finally, we reached a shimmering repulsor field set between two trees. "The whole area has been turned into a careful maze," Bindo said. "Czerka put these up all over, trying to control the flow of the wildlife. Of course, since the vast majority of local species can _climb_ , the shields are next to useless. Still, they're here, and no saying how long until they wear out."

He expertly manipulated the field, bringing it down for the moments it took us to walk through before it snapped back into shimmering view.

"These are the deepest and darkest regions of the Shadowlands," he whispered quietly. "Be cautious."

We hadn't walked more than a few minutes when we came upon a battle. A lone wookiee battled a trio of assailants in full Mandalorian battle armor.

"Is that the mad-claw?" I asked.

"I think that is the lone survivor of a hunting party," Juhani said, gesturing to the fallen wookiees that lay scattered around the area.

"True, outcast wookiees don't travel in packs," I agreed. "Guess we should step in."

I gave a shout, hoping to distract the mandalorians from their very one-sided assault, then snapped my lightsabers on and charged, lightning leading. Bastila was right beside me.

The Force flowed through me, smooth and warm and comfortable, and I wondered how I'd ever lived without it. Those days on Taris felt so long ago and so far away, even Tatooine was barely a memory. I had been disconnected from myself, now the weeks of training with Bastila on the _Ebon Hawk_ and the days spent racing through planet after planet in chase of the maps. . . it was reforging my strength.

I still couldn't recall my former self, couldn't have said if I would ever be as strong as I had once reputedly been, but I could feel the power that crackled through and around me, sense the tight-shining cord that bound Bastila to me, and feel the relentless pull of destiny drawing me forward.

Bandon had been a challenge. Mandalorian raiders were not.

I used the time to practice holding multiple people off balance with the Force, switching my choking force between them rapidly so that I could prevent them from recovering by the time I was crushing them again. It was easy enough to keep two busy, three was a bit of a stretch.

They died before I perfected the technique, of course, so I resolved to continue practicing next chance I got. In the meanwhile. . .

Juhani was helping the injured wookiee with a medpack. I never used the things myself, and though we could probably have sold it for a few credits I didn't really begrudge her. Bastila brought the Force into healing focus, wrapping the wookiee's worst injuries and feeding strength into him.

"Thank you, outsiders," the wookiee growled, sounding surprised. "We were ambushed by these foul mandalorians, like cowards they hid until we had put our weapons away. Many of our group have fallen to them, only I remain now. If you find them, will you avenge my friends?"

"Sure thing," I told him cheerily. "We're good at avenging stuff. And I have something to practice."

He nodded. "I will rest here awhile, the journey back is perilous and I would not undertake it alone without knowing my full strength. Thank you."

We headed deeper into the shadowlands, the hermit occasionally commentating on things we passed, but more quietly than in the upper portions of the dark forests.

He pointed down a side trail. "That's where your map is, though it's an obstinate machine. Refuses to let anyone access the thing."

"It will allow me access," I answered confidently, "or I will force it to do so."

"Heh, young impatience. I don't miss it."

I glowered at him, but turned down the trail he'd indicated. It was well worn enough that the installation clearly saw some visitors, but narrow enough that I doubted any larger animals cared about its presence. All the better.

It glowed to life as we approached. "Life forms detected. Scanning. . ."

"Yes, that's the one," Bindo said. "Good luck getting it to accept you."

"Neural recognition complete. Preliminary match found. Beginning social interface. Greetings."

Bindo gaped in surprise. "Match found? It always muttered something about rejected patterns for me."

"Greetings," I echoed. "Why have you acknowledged me?"

"I will brief you as programmed. You are Lord Revan. I am waiting for your request to begin transfer of the Star Map. Neural scans have matched you to the pattern in memory. There is no possibility for error. You are Revan, and are aware of it."

"True," I said, grinning. "But what if I hadn't been aware? I was uncertain of my identity until relatively recently."

"Behavioural modification would have reinforced the proper mental patterns as per your instructions, programmed five years ago."

"Did I create you?" I asked, curious.

"You installed this holo-interface five years ago so you could access the data of the original installation and Star Map. You additionally placed restrictions on access so that only you could access the Star Map, and only if your mental state remained as it should be."

"Wait, wait. _So five years ago_ I set you up to run behavioral reconfiguration on myself in the event that I was tampered with? Why would I have done that?"

"Reasons for your actions are known only to you, Lord Revan."

"You call me Lord, not Darth. Huh, interesting. Can you wait a few minutes? I need to think."

The holo-interface nodded, and I sat down to meditate.

"Exactly how many times did you refuse me access, stubborn machine?" Bindo asked. The interface didn't even acknowledge him.

I smiled, but returned my thoughts to calmness. Reaching back, I tried to find any memory before Taris, before the Endar Spire. I couldn't have foreseen the bizarre string of events that had led to my _actual_ memory impairment, so what was I afraid of? I may be a bit flighty-brained now, prone to random thought changes, but from all accounts the Lord Revan from before my mind was broken and reprogrammed would have been calm, careful, and a strategic genius.

What would have precipitated such a drastic backup plan?

"Were you ordered to give access to anyone else?" I asked quietly, without moving from my meditative stance.

"Access was restricted to two persons. You, Lord Revan, and the Jedi known as 'X'."

"X? Can you clarify?"

"That is the name you provided for her."

"Can you show me what she looks like?" I asked, opening my eyes and looking up at the hologram.

The interface shifted, the hologram morphing into a familiar-looking woman in red-brown Jedi robes. Her hair was pale, braided behind her in an intricate pattern. She was smiling, something that made my heart ache for reasons lost in my forgotten past. I couldn't remember ever having seen her before, but I knew her at once.

"First Sister," I breathed. "And she never came here?"

"Access attempts in record: Three by the wookiee Freyyr. One hundred fifty two by human Jolee Bindo. All were denied as per your programming, Lord Revan."

"Call me stubborn," Bindo said, laughing. "There wasn't much else to do around here."

"Can I modify permissions?" I asked, ignoring Bindo.

"Yes. You and 'X' have that level of access."

"Modify permissions, add Bastila Shan," I indicated Bastila with one hand, "for unrestricted access of the Star Map and any information within this installation."

"Scanning. . . Bastila Shan added to permissions."

I stood. "Did I leave any sort of message for myself in the event that I returned with mental tampering?"

"I was provided with a set of parameters to match you against and situational testing to verify that you could be made to match the pattern in memory. I am sorry, only the corrupted and partial data of the original installation and the Star Map itself are available. There is no message in memory."

"I find it very interesting that I didn't see fit to give Malak access. Was he with me when I came here last?"

"Records of past access were removed by your instruction, Lord Revan. I have no information about a 'Malak'."

"So, by the time I got here, I'd already decided to ditch Malak in favor of 'X'? He always was an annoying one, but I think I truly believed in him at one point. I must have, to accept him as apprentice while delegating X to general."

"I do not know this 'Malak'," the installation said.

"Yeah, I wouldn't expect you to. I expect he was off being an idiot. Alright, I don't think I have any other questions. Give me the Star Map, then return to your dormancy."

"Executing final action. End communication."

The Star Map opened. The dim lighting of the shadowlands made the glowing holo-interface bright and easily visible. Scanning the map in took little time.

"We're close," I said, combining the partial maps. I was tempted to head directly to Korriban, but that was a Sith world. If there was anywhere we needed to be absolutely at the most extremely prepared, that would be the place. "One map to go."

* * *

We found the mad-claw eventually, as well as a good half-dozen additional mandalorian raiders and more hostile wildlife. I still wasn't able to perfect my attempts at a Force multi-choke, but my ability to switch attention between targets at an instant's notice continued to improve.

The old hermit tried to talk to the crazy wookiee, apparently they'd been friends or something, but the _mad_ part proved more accurate and he attacked us on sight. Between crushing Force and lightning, his pathetic attempt was doomed from the start.

By now, the only thing that could challenge us would be more Dark Jedi, of which the shadowlands boasted none at all. Even a rogue terentatek with its natural resistance to the Force wasn't enough to give us more than a few minutes' pause.

"Ready to say goodbye to this forest?" I asked as we turned back down the main trail toward the distant elevator.

"Oh, yes," Bindo said with obvious pleasure. "I am well and truly ready to leave this place behind."

* * *

We returned to Chuundar, whose spies had apparently been following us, and he returned Z to my care. He'd convinced him that his way was best, or something, but since Z was still technically banished he had to prepare some things before he could stay for good.

I offered to let him stay then and there, but Z insisted that his life-debt was more important. His brother had things well in hand here, he wasn't needed. And I had to admit that it was reassuring to have a wookiee along. Sometimes, as powerful as a trio of Jedi - no, Revanites - are, it pays to have something as big and just plain intimidating as a wookiee to loom over your adversaries.

As we returned to the Czerka safe area, I noticed the pair of men standing by the corner. The shop owner and his indebted servant?

"Hey, Juhani, you still have that busted recording droid we found down there?" I asked. It had been beyond my meager ability to repair, but perhaps the mechanic here would know how to fix it.

She handed over the remnants and I approached the man.

"You're back," the shop owner said. "Have a nice hunt, did you?"

"Yes. Very successful. I was wondering if I could borrow your assistant here. I have something I'd like him to fix."

"Time is money," the owner said.

I sighed and handed him a twenty-credit piece. "That should cover a few minutes," I said.

He nodded to his companion. "Go ahead, Matton, help the woman out."

"How can I help you, ma'am?" Matton asked. I handed him the droid, and he frowned at it. "Hey, this looks familiar. This is. . . this is the droid from my ship!"

"Oh, is it? It was on the forest floor. Maybe he fell?"

"He should have a recording of whatever happened to him, there's no new data to have overwritten it. . ." Matton flipped the droid over, expertly detaching and moving panels, replacing burned out wires, and plugged it into a nearby generator. Within a few minutes the droid sparked to life.

"Playback last recording," Matton ordered. The droid began emitting a fairly mundane recording, the banter of a few friends as they searched the forest floor for something missing.

Then the recording shifted, a new familiar voice joined the others, and shouting quickly escalated to. . . blaster fire? Then the recording buzzed and went dead.

Matton turned to the shop owner. "Eli! You lied to me. You sent my friends on a wild monkey-lizard chase while I repaired your ship, then killed them so you could keep me to cover their debt?"

"Well, ah, a good mechanic is hard to find. You must understand—"

"Understand? I've been slaving here for you in good faith for over a month! You're a liar and a cheat."

I grinned. I certainly hadn't expected anything so exciting when I asked for a minor droid repair.

"I don't take kindly to liars and cheats." I turned to Matton. "Do you want him, or shall I?"

"Oh, I think he's earned what he's getting," Matton said darkly. Before anyone else could make a move, he grabbed a blaster from the shelf of wares, clicked off the safety in a single practiced motion, and blasted Eli in the chest. Then, as the other man fell, shot him again for good measure.

"That's what you get for being a murderous betrayer, Eli Gand," Matton growled. He tossed the blaster over the railing. "And who knows what he did with my ship. Ugh. Well, I do know a good amount about running a shop now. You were in the market for lightsaber crystals, right?" he asked, turning his attention to me.

"Yes, I was."

"Well, Eli had a contact near Yavin, found a pair of really rare and completely unique ones. He figured you'd be interested, so sent to have them delivered to Korriban for you. You'll have to ask after them specifically, let me see. . ."

He rifled through Eli's pockets, then came up with his datapad. Jacking it into his droid, he had it unlocked in a matter of minutes. "Heh, fool never ran the security updates. You know how insecure a three-year-old datapad can get if you don't update it?" He laughed, then coupled the datapad to his own. Transferring for a minute, then he nodded and disconnected Eli's, handed it to me.

"That should have all the relevant information, and the rest of Eli's boring miserable life. Feel free to delete anything you don't need. I've copied it all and will go through it myself later. It'll be a bit tricky convincing all his suppliers to work with me, but I'm sure we can come to an arrangement."

He paused, then tapped in a credit transfer to me. And not a small one either. "If you need anything else, let me know. You saved me from that snake's vile scheme, I'm in your debt."

"Thank you," I told him, accepting the credit voucher. "Good luck, Matton."

"Good luck to you too, ma'am."

"It's Revan," I said, enjoying the look of surprise on Matton's face. "Let your contacts know, don't sell those crystals to anyone but Revan."

"I will at that," Matton said, shaking his head. "It's a small galaxy after all."

I smiled and headed up the walkway to the _Ebon Hawk_.


	35. Nar Shaddaa: Part 1

Ah, the Smugglers' Moon.

Nar Shaddaa shone with as many lights as Coruscant, a bright haven for scoundrels and gangsters alike, orbiting the vast slugdeball that was Nal Hutta. I could remember visiting here, but with the blurry edges of my false identity. In reality, I couldn't be sure if I'd ever visited. It felt familiar, but not clearly enough that I could have said anything specific about the place.

My purposes here were many. I needed to provide adequate protection to my team, mental protection, physical protection. Korriban wasn't a peaceful world like Manaan or even wild Kashyyyk.

Also, I had questions about my abilities which could only be answered through careful studied practice, and the heat of battle was hardly the right time to practice. Though my smuggler instincts shied away from anything so overt as what I had begun to plan, the comfortable crackling warmth within me promised that power was my destiny and I needed only continue to reach for it.

If I had wanted a safe place to practice my darker abilities and find my true destiny, I couldn't have found a better spot than Nar Shaddaa. So many rushing through, coming, going, brash, sneaking, buying, selling. There was no central government, the watchers would each have their own agendas and information would be both cheap and dearly bought, and anything you wanted had its price here.

I _must_ have been here before. The instincts of moving, bribing, flowing with the emptiness that could only be found in a place crammed with so many lives. It was too perfect, too intimate to be something the Council had made up, but I couldn't imagine my purpose in coming here.

The smuggler knew this place intimately. The Forcelord would have no reason to do so.

I frowned as I brought the _Ebon Hawk_ in for a landing. The knowledge felt too _real_ despite the vagueness of actual memory. Even if I knew the smuggler's personality and instinct was just an attempt at controlling me, I _knew_ how to move on Nar Shaddaa. I knew how to pilot anything. I knew things that Jedi Revan and Darth Revan would've had no business knowing.

How would the Jedi council have known this? They certainly didn't have personal experience navigating the Smugglers' Moon, not in the way I felt.

I shook off the confusion. Now was not the time to think this way. I circled the ship around, turned toward the landing pad I'd chosen. I knew the owner could be bribed, he wouldn't be cheap but the ship would be safe enough. And we would be safely anonymous, off any record the Sith could check short of interrogating every downworld landing site owner.

* * *

"What you think you doing here, yah? This is private landing area, you leave."

I smiled and shook my head at the old wrinkle-skinned rodian, answered in huttese which I knew was his native language. "Don't tell me you've changed your rental policy, Kav. It hasn't been _that_ long."

He squinted at me, switching away from his accented basic. "Do we know each other? You don't look like anyone I remember. Not that my memory is that great nowadays."

"We may have crossed paths in the past. I had a smaller ship then, the _Frosty Bottle_?"

"R? You look different. Finally let your hair grow out, eh? Looks good. What happened to you? You disappeared for a long time, most of us thought you'd run afoul of those Sith scum and been put out of commission for good. How's J?"

"Uhhh. . ." I couldn't remember anything about a 'J'. I'd assumed my 'partner' had been a mental representation of Malak, but if I actually _knew_ people. . .

This was getting way too complicated way too fast.

"He decided I wasn't profitable enough for him," I said quickly. "Decided to start on his own. Tried to kill me too." I shrugged. "Just business as usual."

Kav laughed. "Sounds like him. Kid always had more muscle than brains. The usual fee, then? How long will you be staying?"

"Not sure. A few days at least. Maybe as long as a couple weeks. Do you have space inside, or is this ship too big to fit?"

He squinted up at the _Ebon Hawk_ , then scowled. "Nah, is too big. I know a guy who knows a dame, she has indoor space, but it won't be cheap. Not even close to cheap."

"Contact her anyway," I said. "I may have gotten on the bad side of some fairly annoying and persistent adversaries, and would prefer to keep a very very low profile. I don't know if they've made my ship, but I don't want to risk it. My new crew is loyal, but they aren't experienced enough. If things get tight, it could be messy and unpleasant."

Kav nodded. "I'll holocall once I get in touch. But it won't be cheap."

"Just how expensive we talking here?" I asked. I would have expected to pay a good five hundred credits minimum, maybe as much as twice that, but his insistence on the price began to worry me.

"Last I heard, she charges fifteen hundred for a four day spot, and that's for a friend. If I can't convince her you're worth her time, it may run as much as four thousand if you're planning on a week or more."

"Ouch," I said, hissed in a slow breath as I considered. We had a little over ten thousand credits now, between various acquisitions and rewards, but I suspected outfitting our team with the neural ports needed for mind-protecting implants wouldn't be particularly cheap even on Nar Shaddaa.

The time had come.

"Alright, go ahead and get word to her that we need the space. I just hope you'll at least get a finder's fee out of such a sum."

The rodian's smile assured me that he would.

"I've been out of the game a long time, so I need a place to dump some valuable and less valuable items I've acquired of various types. I'm looking for a fast turnaround, but can wait a few days if needed to get a fair price."

Kav stroked the back of his head, thinking. "I know some people, but depending on your volume and the exact nature of the contraband I can't make a general recommendation." He glanced back at his building, then at the _Ebon Hawk_. "Mind if I have a look? Hands-off, I promise."

I nodded agreeably. "We've known each other long enough, I trust you."

Now where did _that_ come from? I had absolutely no memory of this creature, but instincts kept pointing me, pulling me.

He grinned and clapped my shoulder, and I knew it had been the right thing to say. _How do I know all this?_

* * *

Kav completed his inspection of our goods in the cargo hold, considered the eclectic nature of the collection, then gave me three names and associated locations.

The first specialized in chemical-based items; stims, medpacks, universal implants. I frowned at that description. "Universal implants?"

"Yeah, just coming in to popularity. Still a bit pricey, but should be in common use within a few years. They don't require ports, you just inject them directly."

It sounded a bit uncomfortable, but having implants like Canderous that no one could see to target or remove could be useful. If we had enough credits leftover after the essentials were taken care of, I'd certainly look into it.

Next was a weapons dealer, but only interested in ranged or explosives. The vibroblades would be trickier to get a good price with, but Kav recommended another nearby 'junk merchant' who could give us a slightly lower, but probably fair, price for any miscellany that didn't go to a specialized purchaser.

The third contact would buy any electronic or mechanical items, regardless of their intended use. He regularly broke them down and rebuilt them as something else entirely, which was especially useful for concealing the origin of items and breaking up any trail if the items were acquired less than legally.

I thanked the rodian and gave him a fifty-credit tip for his helpfulness. Probably a bit more generous than I normally would have been, but he was part of our contact chain now and I needed to keep him from selling us out, at least until we were well on our way from this place.

* * *

 _What was she?_ I wondered as I lay in my room, staring at the same blank ceiling. _What was this smuggler identity? Why is it so strong, so lasting?_

A thought occurred to me, so chilling that my breath caught as I sat up sharply.

 _I am Revan now, but was I always? They tried to 'save' me, in order to use me against the Sith, but that doesn't mean they were successful. Did they create the smuggler identity in the mind of a Dark Lord? Or did they copy the mind of a dying Dark Lord onto a smuggler?_

No one I had met recognized me as Revan by appearance. Revan had always been a figure of mystery, but was Revan ever _me_?

He. I had always, instinctively thought of Revan as _he_. Had _he_ died saving Bastila? And I was just some replacement?

I climbed out of bed and started pacing, unable to hold still with the restless thoughts that refused to quiet.

 _No,_ I decided. That couldn't be the case. That, at least, was just deception. Juhani had known Revan before. Though she didn't recognize me, she did call Revan 'she'. That much wasn't a lie.

But who was I really?

This was infuriating. I finally had integrated my former identity, finally thought of myself truly as Revan, and now these doubts had to show up?

Fury flooded me. I screamed, Force echoing out and smashing my practice items against the walls, sent them bouncing and spinning. Those directly in front of me seemed flattened a bit more than before.

I knew too much that Revan shouldn't. I _was_ Revan, there could be no denial, but I was also this smuggler.

 _HOW?_

Then Bastila was behind me, radiating calm. I turned in surprise. My thoughts were so tumultuous, I hadn't even sensed her approach.

"You need not fear so," she said quietly. "I know you. You _are_ Lord Revan, in truth. If there ever was a smuggler whose memories they drew upon, it was only to preserve the essence of who you were that the Council did what they did. It is true that they desired to utilize your knowledge against the Sith, your connection to the Star Forge, your strategic genius. They felt responsible for the harm that came to you, even for their actions so long ago that drove you to darkness. It may be a terrible thing they did, but they were trying to make amends."

"I don't want this constant _uncertainty_ ," I said, but Bastila's calmness was seeping through me. I took a deep breath, loosened my tight fists. "What _am_ I?

"You are Revan. I can personally attest to this. You are the Dark Lord that I encountered on the bridge of your ship. You are the Jedi Knight the Council worked desperately to save." Bastila hesitated, lowered her voice. "This is not an easy road, not for you, not for anyone. Malak is out there right now, conquering and destroying, searching for us so he can kill you and turn me. Countless lives have already been lost in this war, and countless more will be destroyed before the end."

I nodded. "Malak will fall. I fear my armies will be too weakened then to do anything much, though. He will by now have cleared the ranks of anyone loyal to me, and I must do the same. We will lose many in this struggle for power. If only my fool apprentice hadn't given in to the darkness quite so far. It made him power-hungry and _stupid_."

"What. . ." Bastila began, then hesitated. She was afraid to ask, but drawn to it by deep curiosity. "What is the Dark Side like? To live within? I have seen it from the outside, it is frightening and cold. But those within it always seem so. . . confident. Whole. Certain."

"You ask an amnesiac former Sith who doesn't even believe in a Dark or Light side at all, what the Dark Side is like?" I asked wryly.

She flushed, just slightly, but I smiled to see it. I held up a hand before she could start making excuses.

"I'll tell you what I can remember, and what I've seen so far. You call it 'cold', but the Force is always warm. True darkness, like Juhani's untempered rage and aggression on Dantooine, is hot and chaotic. Darth Bandon, he was so full of hatred and overconfidence it made him predictable. Not in act, but in thought. As I fought him I somehow knew what he was thinking, knew he would accept a direct challenge, knew he wouldn't back down even to save himself."

"How is that different from you?" Bastila asked. "You are arrogant, you are overconfident. You rely on your hatred and your every passion."

From anyone else, I would have been offended. But I sensed the honest curiosity in Bastila, she was really trying to understand. These were not flippant or joking questions, this was a true desire for knowledge.

"I can't remember enough to explain it to you in full," I said. "I have instinctive understanding of things, it's hard to put in words. What you or any other Jedi would call the Dark Side encompasses a whole range of any behavior your council thinks is bad. What I would call the darkness is a certain depth. Beyond summoning lightning with fury, beyond casual cruelty to create and maintain a certain mindset even to a subconscious level, there is a depth that consumes. The. . . true darkness. Its source lies beyond the edges of known space. It is a siren call, heard most clearly by those using surface darkness."

I hesitated. "Imagine water. You have a shield of a certain strength. You swim up, and things are lighter, swim down and the water is heavier and darker. Swim down far enough, and your shield still holds though you can hardly see. Swim just a little too far, and you are crushed. If you only ever swim on the surface, you can know for certain that you won't ever reach that crush depth. That's the Jedi. Staying completely within their safety, refusing to explore anything that even hints of their 'dark side'."

I nodded, liking the analogy. "The deeper you go toward that point of true darkness, the more power you can draw from it. The light powers are farther away, harder to use. I can shield with the Force, but healing is difficult for me because I have focused my attention on the aggressive powers, those deeper away from the 'light'. Juhani dove too deep too fast, was nearly overcome, and retreated in terror. She could easily be stronger than most Jedi if she would follow me cautiously, but she may be too afraid to try."

"As long as we don't reach that 'crush point' we will be untainted?" Bastila asked. "You can stay yourself?"

I nodded. "When you give in to power completely, it changes you. Look at Malak, he was always a tagalong and a coward, but in his eagerness he gave over to hatred and pride. For the gain of more power he turned on me, his oldest friend. I didn't understand then where that point lay, it's hard to see when you don't know what you're looking for. Though giving in completely would grant far more power than I will ever attain by my careful descent, that depth is too much to control. It would. . ."

I hesitated again, reaching for words. "When you use the Force, especially aggressively, it has an effect on your body and mind. Though the effects can be mitigated, the stronger powers over energy and life can be destructive to channel over long periods of time. And if you give over entirely, stop holding yourself above them and just take as much power as is offered, it will eventually overwrite essential parts of your self. I could allow that darkness to overwrite my conscience with pure strength, and it _would_ make me more powerful, but it would also leave me without that essential counterbalance. I know how far to go, when to pull back."

I waved my hand dismissively. "I'm sorry I can't be more clear. But that's why I have to work so hard to align myself to the more aggressive, passionate side of the Force. Shifting my _self_ after what the Jedi did to me is hard, which is why I can't afford to think like a Jedi would. Giving in to that true darkness would be such a simple step, but it would destroy me. Becoming powerful enough without losing yourself is a dance on a bladepoint. If you are still willing to follow me, be sure that you don't try to rush past me. It will be tempting, power always is, but stay cautious."

I knew I was rambling, my attempt at explanation going nowhere, but she seemed to understand. I fell silent, waited a long moment to give her time to consider.

"I told you I would follow you anywhere," Bastila said quietly. "I don't even know how to begin."

"I will teach you," I said. "Accepting your emotions and desires instead of suppressing them is a good place to start. We will also have to do things that the Jedi would call 'evil' and probably it will hurt you to do so, but the easiest way to change your self is through taking action."

Bastila nodded. Reluctance and eagerness warred within her.

"It will not be easy overcoming a lifetime of training and control," I told her. "Take it slowly, little steps forward. We don't want you to overreach."

"You are always saying we have no time to waste," Bastila said.

I shook my head. "This isn't a waste. This is essential. I need to be stronger, you need to be stronger. What time has been lost can't be helped, right now we must steadily move forward as best we can. And right now that means caution."

I suddenly remembered my argument with Onasi before Kashyyyk. I hadn't really spoken to him since. I hoped his silence meant he was thinking about what I'd said, that he would come to accept me, but I couldn't help feeling that I'd overstated my case. What I'd said that night, I hadn't truly believed fully. It helped shift my attention to why I was doing what I was doing, but I wouldn't really have thrown myself into true darkness.

Or would I? I had been so afraid, so angry. I couldn't remember half the things we said, but the worst parts of it shone clearly in my memory. I wanted to apologize, but I knew I couldn't admit he was right. I could back down a little, but the core of who I was and what I had to do wouldn't change. And that required more darkness than light.

Not as much as I had claimed, trying to force him to understand in the heat of the moment, but more than I currently could wield comfortably.

Bastila put her hand on my shoulder, and I startled at the unexpected contact.

"Are you alright?"

"I was distracted by memory," I said, brushing away the memory. "Practice accepting your emotions. We'll continue another time."

* * *

 _Author's Note: It was when first writing this chapter back in March that I got the idea for my second KotOR story, Revans Reborn. "What if her fears in this chapter were true, and Revan's mind was just imprinted on some poor shmuck the Council grabbed to be their Dark Lord?" It's a weird little story that got way out of hand, but I'm definitely having fun with it. Though admittedly I haven't written much for the past couple months. :/  
_

 _I consider this the point where Fall With Me truly diverged from KotOR itself. Most of it up to now can be explained away by conversational differences, I never really broke the narrative very much. From here on, things will be. . . different. Muahaha haha ha._

 _You may be thinking: 'She wrote this in MARCH? Why has it taken so long to update then? Does she enjoy making us suffer?' Well, the short answer is I write out of order. Leviathan was nearly the first thing I wrote, I started Korriban months ago, and I still to this day haven't finished Nar Shaddaa. Kashyyyk took forever to finish. :\_


	36. Nar Shaddaa: Part 2

_The truth became clearer the longer I fought. Right and wrong. Life and death. Strength and weakness. Honour and despair. Truth and deception. All irrelevant._

 _Beyond it all, only power ultimately mattered. To guard or to rule, to protect or to subjugate._

 _And the Force was all that. Exactly and perfectly, the Force encapsulated the entirety of what I needed. The war itself was irrelevant. The Mandalorians were irrelevant. My own armies, irrelevant. Friendship, irrelevant._

 _The Star Forge was power, drawn from the need for growth and conquest, creating endlessly at my command. The enemy beyond our galaxy was power, drawn from life and hope, quietly eroding the edges of our strength. And the Jedi were power, if only I could find the means to shape them._

 _The petty war with the Mandalorians were irrelevant, but there may be a way to turn it to my advantage._

 _The Jedi needed to be shaken, broken. Only then could I show them my truth, and reforge their failing order in strength._

* * *

I woke after only a few hours, with a strangely formless sense of purpose. I left the ship and roamed the empty landing area around us. We were Kav's only customers at present, but Nar Shaddaa never sleeps.

And right then, neither could I.

I was too restless, too full of thoughts and worries, stretched tight between fear and hope and everything else. Bastila _wanted_ to progress. She may still be held back by her years of training, but she would try to move forward with me.

Juhani had been cold ever since Kashyyyk. Her anger was closer to the surface than ever, but she seemed to be using that only to drive herself away from any hint of their so-called 'dark side'. I was unable to convince her thus far.

Onasi wouldn't speak to me. Oh, he would accept orders, reply to questions, but he did so in the curt manner of a subordinate who followed orders, no longer like a companion or friend. He was surprisingly good at being just useful enough that I couldn't get rid of him while ignoring my every attempt at reconciliation. I wasn't sure why he stayed any longer. It wouldn't have surprised me at all to wake up and find him just gone.

Malak was out there somewhere. I was making progress on one side, while pushing backwards on the other. Bastila and I might be ready to face him eventually, but I needed more allies for the deeper plan. Even if I hadn't yet figured out just what that larger task was, I knew that we couldn't do it alone.

And I was driving away more allies than I was making.

I walked through the streets, moving farther and farther away, alone with my thoughts as the chaos of swirling Force around every creature nearly drowned out Bastila's sleeping mind. A rare moment of semi-privacy.

I wasn't in a mood to enjoy it. My thoughts stayed dark, dissatisfaction welling up through the tangle. A quiet pall seemed to lie over everything, despite my gains I was farther from success than ever. My team barely held together, the slightest pressure could fracture everything.

I had no one to blame but myself. I may be able to plan a battle, direct any minor or major conflict, but managing people on such a direct level had never been my strength. I was charismatic, yes, could often sway others to see my side of things, but that proved most effective in group settings.

And, I had to admit at least to myself, much of what allowed me to understand and empathize with others had been lost. Either through overuse of higher level Force abilities, Malak's betrayal, or the Jedi interference. A good portion of who I had been just wasn't there any longer.

The murmur of voices around me caught, hitched just a moment as I came to a stop in the center of the open-air cafe. I hesitated, something tickling at my subconscious. The conversations resumed, somewhat more warily.

I stood, unsure why I had come here or what to do now, when I heard the word 'Cathar'. My gaze snapped to the speaker, a purple-skinned twi'lek sitting with a pair of ruffians, and I crossed to that table.

He glanced up at me, snorted dismissively. "If you're not here to refill my drink you can get lost," he snapped. "This is a private conversation."

I drew myself up, not in the mood to let that slide. Anger would be a welcome relief from the confusion trapped within me.

"And who are you to dictate where I should stand?" I demanded, pulling my saber hilts to my hands.

The twi'lek froze. "Ah, my. . .ah, my apologies miss Sith. I am Xor, a trader." His tone was anything but respectful, more mocking than anything.

If I _were_ a Sith, he would probably be choking on the floor.

I chuckled at the notion, ignited my off-hand saber. The crimson blade hissed to life, its hum bringing an abrupt halt to the conversations around the room.

"And what do you know of Cathar, 'Xor'?" I asked softly, holding my blade casually away from myself and to the side.

"More than you," he said, slowly rising to his feet to face me properly. "Ooh, scary Sith lady, hiding behind her lightsaber."

I found myself liking his bravery, even if his attitude grated on me at present. He really was lucky I wasn't actually a Sith, or he'd not have survived the encounter.

Irritation sparked into electricity around me, lightning crackling up my arms and jumping between my fingers.

"I need no weapon to destroy you," I said in a quiet dangerous tone, deactivated my saber. "Tell me what you know about Cathar."

Xor shrugged. "As I was just telling my friends here, I only visited the homeworld once. Back when we were cleansing it."

"You say 'we'," I said. "Are you a Mandalore, then?"

"Oh, no no. I helped them only on that one world, I have personal reasons to wish their species. . . controlled."

I smirked at him. "Personal reasons?"

"I trade in a number of the more near-intelligent species, but I do have a special interest in Cathar," the twi'lek said.

"I happen to have one back on my ship, a young female. She might be interested to see you."

Xor narrowed his eyes. "Oh? Are you looking to sell?"

I shrugged. "It depends on what you're offering, but we may be able to reach an agreement."

The way this fellow talked so disrespectfully about her species, about casually wiping them nearly from the galaxy, that might be enough to bring her out of her stoic Jedi-mode. That might spark her anger in truth.

And it would certainly be fun to watch.

* * *

"Z, this is Xor. He's here to visit Juhani," I told the wookiee. He was standing guard just inside the ship, Onasi sitting in the central room in case anyone tried to break in and Z needed backup.

"How did he find us?" Z growled. "Are we in danger?"

I laughed, shook my head. "No, no. I found him, it's fine."

Xor didn't understand [shryywook] but when the wookiee stood aside he followed me. Hesitantly.

"You have quite an exotic menagerie yourself," he commented quietly. "How do you maintain your mastery over the wookiee? I see no control collar."

I smiled. "That's easy. He swore a life debt to me. Best control there is."

Xor's eyes widened slightly. "That is an uncommonly difficult thing to arrange, or so my associates have told me. I never trade in wookiees myself, too dangerous."

"They are a beautiful thing in battle," I said. "A bit blunt perhaps, but certainly valuable when properly directed."

I banged on Juhani's door, waited until I sensed her wake and sit up, then tabbed it open.

"Juhani, I found an interesting person while wandering about," I told her cheerily. Meeting Xor had taken my mind off my problems astonishingly well.

Xor gave her a quick glance over, glanced back at me questioningly when he saw her Jedi robes and lightsaber.

"Exotic dress up, miss Sith?" he asked.

" _Miss Sith?_ " Juhani demanded.

"Sshh," I said, motioning her to quiet. "It isn't important. Xor here was telling me all about how he helped the Mandalorians wipe out a significant portion of the Cathar homeworld, isn't that right Xor?"

Juhani's confusion immediately vanished along with any tiredness. "WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"

Xor glanced at me curiously. "Not very well trained, is it?" he asked.

"She's only been with me a few months," I said. "So, what's your offer?"

"Offer?" Juhani asked, glaring at us both. "I am my own person and if you think this is some game-"

I shushed her again, watching Xor.

He took a step closer to her, seeming unafraid of her obvious fury. "Those markings, they are well proportioned and quite uncommon. A good specimen, if a bit unruly. I'm sure we can come to some arrangement. I'll gladly offer—"

Xor broke off, stepped closer to Juhani. She glared at him, at me, but took a hesitant step backwards herself.

"Hold still," Xor ordered firmly. He stepped closer, put a hand to her chin to tilt her head to the side.

Juhani slapped his hand away. "If you do not explain yourself soon," she hissed, glaring at me, "I will take matters into my own hand."

"This creature looks familiar to me," Xor said at length. "Looks like the one I bought on Taris, just after I put down one of their aggressive and useless males."

Juhani's blade leapt to her hand, ignited in a hiss. Xor leapt back, just on time to avoid the blade. Juhani didn't strike, but held it ready in both hands, aimed at his face. "WHAT DID YOU DO ON TARIS, YOU SCUM?!"

"I believe it is the same one," Xor said calmly, but he did take another step back. "This creature rightfully belongs to me, purchased just before those interfering Jedi came and took her away. I understand that the intervening affairs have resulted in your ownership, and I'm not going to insist you return her to me without payment, but I will have her back."

"Oh?" I asked, playfulness seeping through my tone. "You make demands upon me?"

"You stay out of this!" Juhani yelled at me, turned to Xor. "You, tell me about what you did on Taris!"

"Yes, please tell us about Taris," I told Xor. "I'm curious."

The twi'lek shrugged, as though it were of no significance. "I found one of those useless Cathar males who had escaped us, fled to Taris. So I put it down like the animal it was. Then I found a female on the auction block. The females make amusing pets, I developed an appreciation for them while fighting with the Mandalorians. And they make excellent servants if properly trained."

"Hmmm," I said. "And your offer was. . .?"

"I will _not_ be sold!" Juhani said. She started forward, but I pushed back with the Force to hold her away from Xor.

"Ah, ah. He came here in good faith, you wouldn't want to risk falling to the _dark side_ over a simple trader, would you?" My mocking tone did nothing to calm the situation.

Juhani hissed, spat at Xor's face. "Simple trader? You heard him, you HEARD HIM! He takes pleasure in _exterminating_ my people. In enslaving us, in _controlling_ us like animals. How can you claim to stand for anything as you toy with me this way?"

Xor seemed unbothered by her rage. "I believe five thousand credits should suffice," he said, addressing me and ignoring Juhani. "Perhaps a bit low considering her near-perfect markings, but considerations must be made for her poor training and advanced age."

Juhani only snarled in reply. "I will NOT be sold like an animal, never again! I am a _Jedi_."

Power shredded through my restraining push, Force slammed up into me and Xor. I stumbled back a step, steadied myself. Xor went flying, slammed into the holotable and only then seemed to understand his true peril. Juhani took another step forward, her face twisted with rage, her saber held forward aggressively.

"YOU are the animal," Juhani said. "You do not deserve to live another minute, you should have been removed from civilization long ago."

I reached out toward her mind with the Force. I couldn't remember ever consciously forming a Force bond - it was something that had happened _to_ me in the past, never something I deliberately initiated - but I felt very strongly that this moment could be the beginning of more.

"Hold steady, Juhani," I said quietly. "Think before you act. Talk through it with me."

She spun on me, eyes bright with fury. "Talk? THINK? How can you defend a slime like this, he is unworthy of any consideration."

I smiled wryly. "I know, Juhani. That is why I brought him for you."

She recoiled, frowned, my calm words jolting her out of her thoughtless rage.

"This is a test, Juhani," I told her gently. "I did not know he had a personal connection to you, only that he hated Cathar and wanted them enslaved or dead. This is a perfect example of how darkness can be used to destroy darkness."

"You're trying to _trick_ me?"

I shook my head. "If I wanted to deceive you, I'd have stood back and let you kill him in your initial thoughtless rage. No, I want you to _decide_ for yourself, knowing exactly what is before you. Do you use your well-deserved anger and destroy him as he deserves? Or do you follow the teachings of the weak and set him to go free, killing and enslaving until he is stopped by another?"

She stared at Xor, fury and pain warring in her eyes. I couldn't feel her thoughts, couldn't sense her emotions. My attempt at forging a bond hadn't taken, not yet.

"The Jedi way is to forgive," she said. "The Jedi way is to offer a second chance."

"And if someone doesn't deserve another chance? If you know for a certainty that they will only make things worse for many many lives if they aren't stopped?"

Xor tried to speak, but I choked off his air just long enough to keep him silent. I needed to hold Juhani's attention on me.

She took a breath, met the intensity of my gaze. "Many would have said Darth Revan did not deserve a second chance," she said. "Yet here you stand, by your own accounts the only thing standing between Malak and the complete conquest of the Republic."

"And if, in my saving the Republic, I destroy everything the Jedi stand for? Would you still say that their policy of mercy is justified?"

"Don't listen to her, Juhani."

I whirled. Onasi. He must have come in while we were arguing. I glared at him, but he stood with his arms crossed, defiant.

"She's trying to twist you around, so you'll fall to the Dark Side," Onasi continued.

"Yes, yes," Xor said frantically. "Say no to the Dark Side!" He tried to get to his feet, but a quick Force tug kept his balance unsteady and I choked him to silence again, leaving him to sit slumped against the holotable panting for breath.

"Juhani, the Jedi don't believe in killing their prisoners," I said. "But I disagree with that policy. Obviously I'm glad to be alive, but if they hadn't been completely wrong about what I was doing it would have been a fatal error."

"They believed you could change," Juhani said.

"And look how well _that_ turned out," Onasi said sharply. "You can't force people to change."

I glanced at him, smiled faintly. He obviously hadn't yet grasped the point of the conversation, if he was taking my side even in a roundabout way.

I hauled Xor to his feet with the Force. "So now the question is, what shall we do with our Cathar-hating slime here? His fate I leave to you, Juhani. Do you want to offer him a second chance to live? Or take the vengeance that your people deserve?"

Juhani held her blade out, stared at Xor's pitiful whimpering face, then sighed. Her blade deactivated and she turned away. "I will not fall to the Dark Side," she said. "Whatever temptations you bring to me. I am a Jedi."

"Good for you, Juhani," Onasi said from behind me. I ignored him, kept my focus on the Cathar Jedi.

"You can't make your decisions from a basis of _your_ actions," I said sharply. "You need to be able to judge individual situations based on their own merits. _This person_ , right in front of you, has murdered and enslaved countless of your very own people, to the point where the Cathar may die out from the galaxy completely. And you want to let him _go on doing it?_ "

"It is the Jedi way," she said, stubbornly.

"You think he'll let this go?" I asked. "We've humiliated him. He'll want vengeance. And you know what he knows bothers you? Hurting your people. Can you truly in good conscience let him go free? I would have killed him on the spot."

"Which is why Juhani is _stronger_ than you'll ever be," Onasi said.

"What use is strength when it is used to defend evil?" I retorted. "That is no virtue. I ask this final time, Juhani, and I will abide by your decision. Do you truly wish to let him go?"

Xor nodded desperately.

Juhani's lightsaber was inactive in her hand, a hand clenched around it so tightly it trembled. She watched Xor with quiet fury burning through her and giving off an almost visible aura of Force energy.

"You can use that anger," I whispered. "I've told you, again and again, it is a part of your power."

"He's not worth it, Juhani," Onasi said. "Don't give in to darkness."

I whirled on him. "Keep out of this, Onasi! This is none of your business."

"This is _exactly_ my business," he replied, quietly forceful. "I told you I would do my best to keep you from corrupting the others."

Lightning leapt to my hands, and I had to consciously hold it back. I wanted him to be an ally, we both wanted the exact same thing - freedom and security for the galaxy, away from Malak and Kareth.

"Why do you insist on making this difficult? We're working _together_ here!"

"Because I believe that the _way_ we win matters as much as _whether_ we win," Onasi said. "Using darkness to fight darkness? It won't work. It's just never going to help anything. You'll only set yourselves up as a new dark regime the moment Malak is gone."

"We will _not_! I know what I'm doing!"

"QUIET!" Juhani screamed. I turned to her. "I cannot decide now," she said in an only slightly calmer tone. "I must think on this. For now, do we have the means to restrain him?"

It wasn't a victory, but it wasn't a defeat either. Any chance at creating a bond with her right now was lost, but she hadn't rejected me completely. I could always try again another time. I withdrew my tentative mental Force link and nodded.

"I know someone who can keep him for us. Consider as long as you must."


	37. Nar Shaddaa: Part 3

_"Dedication to an ideal isn't enough. I need something closer, something to actually look at to ground myself when the darkness seems insurmountable."_

 _I hesitated, looking into her eyes._

 _"Something like you."_

* * *

I set Z to sorting out the cargo hold into discreet crates by type and seller while offering the rest of the Ebon Hawk's passengers and crew the chance of shore leave for the day. Or the week, so long as they remained in contact. My only other condition was that they show up to their appointments for implant ports - we'd been forced to spread out over a three day period due to few openings on such short notice.

Bastila chose to remain with me, as I'd expected. Onasi didn't want to leave me alone with any of the Jedi, but he did take an hour to pick up some blaster upgrades and, presumably, send encoded transmissions to the Republic fleet. I had given T3 control of navigation and communications aboard the Hawk, which essentially locked out anyone else without my permission. Onasi was not especially pleased with that decision.

Canderous headed off to talk to the local Mandalorians, Mission took Sasha out shopping in one of the more reputable regions, and Bindo said something about catching up with an old friend.

Juhani simply vanished without telling me where she was heading. Since the incident with Xor the night before, I assumed she would be giving the matter thought in private. I worried about being unable to affect her decision, but trusted that I would make better progress by subtly encouraging her to think for herself than by anything too overt. Pushing her too hard would only drive her away. Slow. Patience.

I'd taken Xor to a particularly shady group who specialized in no-questions-asked prisoner holding. I really didn't want to know why I knew about them, though the depth and detail of my knowledge of Nar Shaddaa remained a vague weight upon my mind. I trusted Bastila, but I did not trust the Jedi Council.

While there, I asked after any short term jobs they might have available for the subduing of large groups or gangs. I wanted to practice extending my Force abilities' range and number of targets before going to Korriban. Dark Jedi training grounds tended to be volatile and dangerous to those who couldn't immediately demonstrate superiority.

Armed with the list of targets and their accompanying instructions and payments, I led Bastila and Onasi on an excursion several layers deeper into Nar Shaddaa's shady underbelly.

We all wore full-face helmets I'd obtained for the purpose of disguise and concealment of our features. They didn't match either our outfits or each other, giving us a quite satisfactory appearance of rag-tag mercs.

I strongly suspected that on Nar Shaddaa, especially this far down, we needed little more than to parade around looking like easy marks. But in case no one was feeling particularly territorial or aggressive, I could always fall back on the list of targets.

 _We'll be practicing with darkness today,_ I told Bastila mentally. _It will probably feel unnatural and wrong to you at first. Tell me if you think it's too much, and we'll stop for the day. Don't try to force yourself to go too far too fast, remember caution in everything._

Bastila nodded, her curiosity reverberating against me. Some part of her wanted to turn back, but it was buried and suppressed by her determination to see this through whatever it took.

I smiled proudly, leading Onasi to give us what I assumed to be a glare. It was hard to tell facial expressions under the helmets. Mine was open and clear at the front, but his was closer to a Mandalorian style and the one-way transparasteel gave a sinister darkness. I only grinned wider, which I knew would irritate him further.

I still hoped that he'd come around somehow, but in the meantime I'd reverted to teasing him mercilessly as though we were still constantly-shouting buddies. Not verbally, but with my actions and attitudes. The familiarness of me seemed to be making no headway with him, but at least he hadn't outright left. I guess he thought it more important to keep an eye on us and try to 'protect' my impressionable Sisters from my influence than flee to safety himself.

I hoped it wouldn't come to that. I didn't want to be forced to kill him, but the longer he stubbornly insisted on opposing me the harder it would become to restrain my aggressive impulses, especially when I was specifically working on _training_ those aggressive impulses. It would be a delicate balance to walk, but then power and danger generally went hand in hand and the balance would be precarious with or without Onasi around to exacerbate it.

"Well, well, well. And who do you think _you_ are, wandering our streets like you own the place?" The voice was silky and guttural at the same time, speaking in Huttese. It snapped me into attention, and I consciously didn't bring out my lightsaber.

 _Be ready, Bastila. Force powers only, no direct engagement. This is practice, remember, but keep your guard up or they may be able to harm you. We don't have Juhani here to heal._

Bastila nodded acknowledgment and I switched my attention to the group spread out to block our way.

There were five of them in front, and another four blocking our escape from behind but a relatively non-threatening distance away. They varied in species, but the speaker appeared to be a Devaronian female. She had a clearly-modified disruptor pistol held casually in one hand, but unlike her eight lackeys wasn't aiming at us.

"We're here looking for the Skack-jarn family," I said, reciting one of the 'bounty' targets we weren't actually chasing.

"And you think they're _here_?" demanded a green-skinned twi'lek male, standing to the left of the devaronian. He had a heavy repeater leveled on us.

I shrugged. "We think they're on Nar Shaddaa, yes."

I made my tone deliberately arrogant, dismissive. If I wanted to, I could probably have calmed down the situation and had us each gone our separate ways. But we were here to practice Force powers, not diplomacy.

Ripples of anger and threat vibrated through the Force around us. I grinned eagerly, drank it in. "Now either show us where you're hiding them or get out of our way," I demanded.

 _Feel it, Bastila_ , I instructed mentally. _Echo it, let it come through you and out. Direct it, copy what I do if you can._

"We are not tour guides for fools," spat the devaronian. "Leave."

"No," I said, planting a fist on my hip and smirking at her. "We go where we please, now stand aside if you know what's good for you."

"You and your _two_ friends will stand against us all? Fools."

"You don't want to do that," Onasi said suddenly. "If you want to live, you'll turn and run right now. They're Dark Jedi."

I turned and glared at him. "What is your problem!? They're just thugs, why are you trying to protect them."

The confidence had begun to fade from the surrounding thugs, unease flowing around them.

"Dark Jedi?"

"We don't want to tangle with Malak."

"The Sith, here?"

That did it. "I'm not _Sith_ and I'm not a _dark Jedi_!" I screamed, lashing out with Force energy. My lightning was defuse, not concentrated enough to kill. It actually took considerable focus to kill with lightning, I'd learned. Of course, I was quite adept at killing focus when I wanted.

The lightning, accompanied by a flare of undirected Force, sent those in front stumbling back under the staggering weight of my attack. I pushed aside my instinctive rage, focused on my purpose here. Crushing Force, gathered around my hands, directed forward. Hold, switch, hold, switch. Keep them off balance. Don't let anyone recover too much.

Onasi ducked into a side alley, deliberately refusing to get involved. Two of the thugs behind us just broke and ran. Bastila wasn't able to hold them yet, hadn't discovered how to accept her darker abilities. It split my attention too far, grabbing and pulling them back with the Force. Three of those in front managed to recover and fire.

I pushed out against their blaster fire, but unfortunately the devaronian with the disruptor had a killer aim. Disruptor pistols were unblockable, their energy moving at speeds and on a frequency which no shield, armor, or Force ability had yet been able to intercept. As such, they were highly illegal, incredibly expensive, and very popular with thugs of all varieties. If you wanted to be big-time, you _had_ to have a disruptor.

The Force warned me to dodge, but the beam burned through my arm , my body an instant slower than the disruptor. If I hadn't had that split-second advantage, I'd have been actually _dead_. The injury wasn't any more dangerous than being speared by a lightsaber, but it hurt and would slow any attacks with my left hand.

The pain brought fury into sharp focus. I grabbed the devaronian leader, directing crushing Force with one hand to hold her and keep her held, while I rapidly switched attention between the other four in front of me.

Bastila struggled beside me, trying to hold off the four behind us with a combination of clever pushing and pulling and mental manipulation. I couldn't help her, my attention already split so far I could barely keep the Force moving quickly enough. If I hadn't been so busy trying to keep four armed thugs at bay with one hand, or had been willing to risk the disruptor their leader held, I could have used focused lightning to bring it to a quicker end.

But that was exactly the point of the whole exercise, learning the speed and strength necessary for split-second control without relying on other Force abilities or a lightsaber.

I hoped Bastila could hold her own, because I really couldn't help. Our mental Force flowed up against each other, but I couldn't spare attention for showing her anything specific. I sensed her reaching, unsure and tentative, toward the power she didn't quite understand.

The air was full of fear, anger, aggression. Emotions flowing freely through our assailants, through me, through her. _Just take it in, use it all._ I didn't have time to concentrate on forming the thought into words, but the intent and push of it transmitted clearly enough.

Choke. Pull. Push. Hold.

I had my hands full with the five ahead of me, Force moving in rapid bursts to keep them all off balance, unable to bring their weapons around, unable to break and flee. It strained my concentration to its limit. If I didn't have to worry about that disruptor. . .

Focus.

A surge of energy flowed, I sensed Bastila reach out her hand. Her attempt at using crushing Force was weak, tentative, but it was there. I felt the exhilaration thrill through her as she successfully grabbed one of the thugs behind me, held him off the ground struggling feebly. She wasn't pressing hard enough to suffocate him, not putting anywhere near enough energy into it to crush his body, but it kept him from moving against her.

Unfortunately, despite her usual ability to divide focus, she was unused to the particular use of Force in this form. The other three recovered from her kinetic attacks and opened fire. On her, and on my undefended back.

Ah, well. It had been a good start.

I spun, dropped to a crouch so the blaster fire went over my head. Grabbed Force energy from everything and everyone around, I brought it within myself and ignited it with my constant burning rage, simultaneously targeted all nine of our opponents.

I stood, raised my hands, bringing the lightning around in an arc, and brought every bit of focus and energy I had remaining into finishing this now.

It was the first time since Malak's betrayal and my subsequent power loss that I'd actually tried multi-focus targeted lightning rather than the general area-targeted blasts. I wasn't completely sure it would work. But I needed it to and the Force answered my call.

The devaronian leader fell first, my sustained crush on her letting up only as the lightning thundered down with fatal intensity. The screams of our attackers was nearly drowned out by the crackling sizzle and relentless roar of the lightning that danced with Bastila and I standing untouched in its center.

I reached my mind out to hers, showing her the power as it felt through myself. _This is what you can become_ , I told her. _Remember this feeling, this power. Draw on it, use it, control it._

The remaining assailants began collapsing, their screams and convulsions ceasing into stillness with the unceasing assault of my lightning.

Bastila's power hesitantly joined with my own, a weak crackle of electricity building at her fingertips. She stared down at it, her mind a confusion of desire and pride and fear and loathing.

Her doubt echoed softly. _Is this really what I want to become?_

Our last assailant fell still and my lightning storm ceased as suddenly as it had begun. I allowed myself to collapse to the ground, more worn than I'd expected. I sat quietly amid the death and destruction we'd wrought, couldn't summon the energy of a verbal reply. Contentment and triumphant thrill still thrummed through me, and I simply transmitted that sensation of success. Despite imposing such strict handicaps on ourselves we came through victorious.

Well. I may have changed the rules just a little at the end, but it was still no-lightsaber.

"You're crazy," Onasi snapped, emerging from his hiding spot. He gestured at the smoking bodies. "Why would you do that?"

"This is why we came out here," I told him. "They were worthless scum, no doubt, and will not be missed. Perfect for practicing on."

"Practice? This wasn't even one of your bounties, you... you just wanted to provoke someone into attacking so you could _practice_ killing?"

"Force power control against living targets," I corrected. "Their deaths were only necessary to maintain secrecy."

Onasi remained clearly unconvinced, but I didn't care what he thought. Bastila was the one for whom this exercise meant something. I turned to her.

"This is only the start," I warned. "As much as I want you to join me on this path, I would not force you should you choose to turn back."

Bastila's eyes came up to meet mine, blue and clear and firm with resolve, her doubt buried. "I will follow you, wherever the path leads."

I smiled.


	38. Nar Shaddaa: Part 4

Onasi remained stoically silent throughout our return to the Ebon Hawk, though I could tell he wanted nothing more than to shout at me. His disapproval was unmistakable.

A trio of heavy thugs had tried to deny us passage to the elevator up from the lower levels, leading to another perfect opportunity for Force practice. I finished them off with the disruptor pistol I'd taken, and decided I quite liked it. With a few modifications it would make a perfect sidearm for when lightning or crush would be too obvious.

I smirked a bit at considering a highly lethal and incredibly illegal weapon subtle, but when people died of inexplicable causes it tended to cause more questions than simple assassinations. _Those_ happened all the time, especially in this political climate.

Malak's War, or the 'Jedi Civil War' as some idiots had taken to calling it, laid a sense of quiet desperation over everything. Without me there to restrain and direct my armies, they had fallen into a predictable Sith pattern of ruthless conquest. Not so much here on Nar Shaddaa, of course. Here everything was always desperate and they really didn't care what happened to the Republic.

I silently cursed the Star Forge. Rakatan engineering may be the pinnacle of Force-imbued technology, but did they really have to create an entire station fueled only by overwhelming power? Without that influence, my old friend might never have fallen. If I'd never been betrayed, the Jedi would never have found an opening to destroy me.

Bastila didn't manage any attack powers in our second confrontation, though I held the enemies unable to retaliate for long minutes to give her the time. Without the heavy charge of so much fear and killing intent in the air she just couldn't reach the aggressive side of the Force.

I wasn't discouraged, of course, far from it. The fact that she'd been able to lift and hold someone and manifest even a few sparks showed that her Jedi training hadn't irreparably fixed her mental alignment. Even if it meant we needed to find large groups of dangerous people who wanted to kill us every time we wanted to practice, it gave us a starting point. Once she practiced it enough I knew she'd be able to instinctively call for it at need like I do.

And if there's one thing you could find plenty of on Nar Shaddaa, it was large groups of people who had no scruples about life and death and would gladly kill you for invading what they considered their territory.

I smiled, glad we'd decided to make this detour. A few weeks here, maybe a couple months if needed, and our power would be dramatically increased. It had been a stretch for me even to defeat the nine thugs we'd encountered earlier. I'd been pushed beyond my former limits, and now had a whole new Force lightning form to practice with. What other lost abilities could I regain here? What _new_ abilities could I create here?

Nar Shaddaa was a place of infinite possibility. We could stay here a year and never run out of enemies.

Well, no. After a few months, word would get around. Possibly after only a few weeks. Even if we continued to be efficient, there was no way to completely ensure no one would be watching. The number who would dare challenge us would shrink, we'd end up with an actual reputation, maybe even some followers or clingers-on. No, Nar Shaddaa was a stopover point, no more. A place to train for a short time, then leave before we cemented ourselves too firmly in the planet's collective memory.

After all, we still had to stay away from Malak until the time was right. Bastila was still quite weak, while I myself retained only a fraction of my former knowledge and power. I was regaining it rapidly, but weeks would not be enough.

We could spend a few months here, solidify what we could gain. Korriban would be our final trial. There, we could infiltrate the Sith academy itself, practice with its students, train with its masters. It would show just how far we could come, and once we had surpassed all there and claimed its mastery we could lead them against Malak and then out against whatever waited in the darkness beyond the galaxy.

As long as nothing went wrong. And I certainly didn't trust fate that far.

We moved our ship to Kaz's expensive acquaintance's deep docks, an abandoned warehouse district several levels lower and not much to look at on the outside but quite sufficiently well secured on the inside. It wasn't quite enough to withstand an orbital direct strike attack, but it came as near to it as one could expect. Especially so far down in Nar Shaddaa's depths.

No wonder it cost so much to rent. Whoever set this up - and I didn't believe for a minute that the quarren woman running it now had built it herself - had put a significant investment into it. And the upkeep had to be phenomenal, especially once you factored in the cost of discretion on Nar Shaddaa.

I didn't want us to be predictable, so I left Z and T3 to guard the ship and continue sorting out the cargo while the rest of us found rooms a good distance away in a run-down apartment complex that made me think fondly of our apartment back on Taris. They knew how to live there, none of this dark box rooms that might as well be in a cargo hold.

But, Taris was destroyed. I always found that hard to really think about. Malak bombed an entire planet, just to be rid of me and Bastila? Taris was a stop along the hyperspace routes, but otherwise fairly inconsequential for all its delusions of grandeur. It had never been a significant target, but it had been an important enough piece of Republic infrastructure that I'd sought to keep it intact.

The moment I was out of the way, Malak had lost all sense of direction or purpose. He was like an angry child, not caring what he destroyed on the way to what he wanted.

If he came here, would he dare do the same to Nar Shaddaa? So far the Hutt cartel had stayed out of the Republic-Sith squabble. Malak destroying their precious Smugglers' Moon would probably send them into the conflict, if not exactly on the side of the Republic at least on the side against Malak.

No, I decided. We'd be safe here, at least as safe as anywhere. Hidden by the swirl and flow of so much life, even searching for us with the Force would be a chancy thing.

Our only real threat would be if someone told him, then he'd have reason to come in person. If Malak himself set foot on the moon, there would be nowhere we could hide. He and I knew each other too intimately. Just as I would always know him through the Force, he would surely be able to find me if we ever passed so near. Even in my weakened state, I remained essentially the same.

Juhani still hadn't returned after running off two nights ago. I checked on her location occasionally, but it was hard keeping track of her even through the Force unless I took time to really concentrate. Nar Shaddaa truly was a perfect world to hide, even for a Jedi. She was alive, but beyond that I couldn't really tell.

I resolved to seek her out within the next day or so; she still needed her neural ports and we hadn't been able to tell her our new location. I didn't want to leave a comlink or holomessage; there was no point in trying to hide if you advertised your position over easily hackable or intercepted communication lines. I doubted anything broadcast on Nar Shaddaa would be safe, no matter how 'secure' of a connection you tried to use.

In the meantime, Bastila and I spent the morning with Mission and Sasha. I wanted to hold to some level of balance with Bastila, trying to push too quickly into a new alignment wouldn't benefit anyone.

Sasha had been with us for months now, and was starting to pick up on Basic enough that we could communicate relatively clearly. She understood more than she could speak, but her progress was quite astonishing nonetheless for so short a time.

Despite her youth, Mission fell quite readily into her position as caretaker, and seemed almost immediately at home on Nar Shaddaa's streets. She carried herself with just the right amount of certainty, movement that screamed 'I'm not as easy a mark as I look.'

I shouldn't be surprised; she survived the undercity of Taris for years after all. But she's so young, it's hard to remember sometimes that she's as good with a blaster or vibroblade as she is with a computer or lock.

It was pleasantly relaxing, just wandering Nar Shaddaa's middle tiers. It was nothing like window shopping on Coruscant or a properly civilized planet, of course. The shops and passersby all had the same constantly alert appearance, the same wary regard of everything in sight.

With Mission and Sasha along, I was sure we looked quite out of place, but I carried myself with the confidence of a professional bodyguard and we stayed in the well-traveled areas. No one tried to bother them, beyond snide remarks or the occasional sneer or leer.

We spent the afternoon mostly visiting one dingy shop or another, until the time for our implant-port appointments. Sasha, being slightly too adorable to refuse, glancing with innocent desire at one item or another, ended up with the most purchases of us all. Mostly fairly frivolous, but they would help her make the room she and Mission shared feel more like home.

I tried calling Juhani on our way to the clinic - she was one of the three I'd scheduled for the day - but she didn't answer her com and I still didn't trust Nar Shaddaa enough to leave a message.

Resigning myself to losing the deposit on her slot, I resolved to give her one more day to contact us before I started searching for her in earnest. I couldn't afford to lose one of my two Jedi-trained companions, especially right before we went to Korriban where our strength had to be at its peak.

The neural-port installation process took a few hours, careful scans and precise calibrations necessary due to the inherent differences in physiology between even beings of the same species.

Sasha's provided more difficulty than Mission's - and an increase in cost - due to her youth and the complications necessary to ensure it would continue functioning as she grew. Still, the place was highly recommended and they went about their business with care and precision.

One couldn't get away with shoddy work on Nar Shaddaa for any length of time. With the types of clientele they'd attract, shoddy work ended with angry customers and that never ended well. Scammers and fools either fled quickly or died slowly.

We departed well into the evening, with warnings that for the next several days there would probably be random mood and sensation shifts as the mind adapted to the new access. A 'trainer' chip had been provided which would regulate and mitigate most of the effects, but they should try to not over-exert in the meantime.

Not a problem. I tasked them with researching Korriban in preparation for our near-future visit, and asked Mission to continue teaching Sasha to speak and understand Basic. They could leave the ship, but only with Z, Canderous, or myself as escort.

Nar Shaddaa was _not_ a safe place to wander alone, no matter how good you were with a blaster, and less so with a child to protect.

I tried Juhani twice the following day, but again she didn't answer the com. I spent several hours meditating, searching for her in the Force, and she was definitely still alive.

The impatience caught up with me, so I invited Bastila to come with me on another practice mission.

She was hesitant. It seemed Onasi had been trying to scare her away from this path while I spent the day with Mission and Sasha. But I sensed the eagerness that underlay the Jedi instincts for flinching away from anything 'Dark Side', the quiet thrill that she couldn't quite suppress when she thought of the power we'd touched that day.

"Once you have your ports in tomorrow you'll need to take it easy for a week or so," I told her. "Now is the perfect opportunity."

She agreed, of course. And since Onasi wasn't in our direct vicinity, we were able to get away without him trying to convince her otherwise or tag along to warn off any potential victims.

That man. Seriously. It's _Nar Shaddaa_ , surely there are thousands of worlds that better deserve his protection. If he's still overcompensating for his guilt over being unable to help Telos, he'd really do better to pick anywhere else.

We donned a different mismatched armour set - I certainly had enough of them. Z had done an admirable job sorting out everything, though I hadn't taken the time to contact any of the purchasers yet. I ought to do a check over each pile, make sure I wasn't selling anything we really should keep.

For now, my priority was breaking down Bastila's inherent Jedi resistance to using aggression-aligned Force abilities.

We took a different route this time, rented a speeder to drive to another sector where our bounty intel hinted a chance at finding one of our other targets.

I frowned, the thought of bounties reminding me. I never had reported back to Hulas after finishing his three tests for the Genoharadan. The stealth generator he'd given me for the first job had been incredibly high quality, I wondered what other toys he'd have for me.

Another time. Right now, we had a particularly nasty trio of trandoshans to see to.

"They're rumored to have taken up with Eight Star," I explained as I brought the speeder in to land at a dimly lit station. I carefully maneuvered it into its port, always surprised by how adept I was at negotiating the Smugglers' Moon. "Recent intel places them around this area."

We walked through dim, mostly-empty corridors, but in the Force I could sense we were being watched every step of the way.

We were _much_ farther down this time, and it showed clearly. Graffiti on the walls had been ignored, fading with time and wear rather than any attempts to conceal it. Empty crates and derelict vehicles lay about in strategic locations, as though intended to provide cover for a retreating force.

The doors that lined the street were mostly sealed tightly, some barred. It made me faintly uneasy, knowing that anyone could emerge at any time. Tactically, we were making a very foolish mistake, entering enemy territory alone. But we were both Jedi; the risk should be minimal.

No one approached us or attempted even the most basic courtesy. The few others we passed walking only glanced at us warily and scurried on with their own business.

Finally we reached a wide doorway, beside which a pattern of Eight Star was clearly visible. A series of seven dots of different sizes, each connected to a central circle with a thin line. Beyond the doorway was only a dark entry room, a single door leading off it was closed and sealed.

I sensed motion behind us, not close, but there were people moving out there. We may well have walked into an ambush of some sort.

I smiled. Perfect.

I knocked loudly on the door, my metal-sheathed fist making a satisfactorily echoing bang. "Shskk-Sarshk, come on out! We know you're in there!"

Nothing happened for a long moment. Bastila's hand hovered by her weapon. I motioned her down.

"Yo, uglies! We're her to bring you in. Come on, open up!

I sensed the quiet motion behind us, but didn't turn until the deliberate _click_ sounded behind us.

A full dozen assorted thugs stood arrayed behind us, blocking the wide gateway. The door ahead remained closed and sealed, basically trapping us in this small entry room.

The click had been created when the leader, a bald rattataki man, planted his electrostaff against the floor in front of him. At least I assumed him to be the leader, given his central and forward position.

"Hello," I said cheerfully. "Are any of you harbouring the Shskk-Sarshk? I heard rumors they'd been spotted down here."

"For bounty hunters, you are idiots," the rattataki replied. "I am Yndorce of Eight Star, you would dare insinuate—"

"Not insinuating," I interrupted. "Just a simple question. Do you know where they are? Just point us on our way, we have no quarrel with you."

"If we knew their whereabouts and intended that they be captured, please tell me, why we would not have turned them over ourselves already?"

I laughed, genuinely entertained. "There are all kinds of potential reasons. Not wanting to leave your territory, not wanting to risk your own men, an argument, your reputation. . ."

The Eight Star thugs looked to their leader, who gave a slight nod, a faint smile. "I see you are more intelligent at least than the average hunter who comes down here. Still, even supposing we knew what you wished, why would we help you?"

"Well, for one thing, I could kill you all where you stand. Self-preservation will do wonders for beings' cooperation levels."

Yndorce and several of his thugs laughed outright at that.

"You and your silent companion there, against all of us? No, you do not intimidate me."

"Your loss," I said. They weren't attacking still. It was just possible we could actually convince them to help us find our target, but if this became violent it would be just as well. So long as we could cover both the archway and the door, in case they had reinforcements.

I took a step to the side, covering the motion by waving my hand at them. "If you start something, be assured that I will finish it. Painfully and permanently."

I tapped the disruptor pistol at my side, eyes directly on the rattataki.

"I see now why you were so foolish as to come here practically alone. You are an overconfident fool, hunter, and would do well to respect the strength of those who have lived longer and wiser than yourself."

"You may be older, but for the other. . .wisdom would tell you that I should be assisted in finding my own target rather than trying to paint one on yourselves."

A burly human with a disruptor rifle grunted, turned to his leader in obvious irritation. "Why are you putting up with this nonsense, Ynd? Just let us blast them and be done."

Yndorce shook his head just slightly. "Do you understand nothing of the ripples and currents we must so carefully maneuver?" he asked, quietly enough that I could barely make it out. "Be still."

He turned back to me. "But he does have a point. Even if we wished to allow you to dispose of the Shskk-Sarshk discretely and with us seemingly unawares, what confidence can you give us in your abilities beyond your empty words?"

Very interesting. If we were actually bounty hunters, we'd probably have jumped at the chance. But the easiest ways I could conceive of to prove ourselves would still involve revealing our abilities as Force-users. And having an entire gang aware of who and what we were seemed ill-advised at this time so early in our stint on Nar Shaddaa. By the time Bastila was recovered from her neural implant procedure and we were back on the streets, half the moon would know to run.

I considered a while in silence, weighing the situation until I came to a possible solution. "Carry our challenge to them, then. They can choose a location, any location so long as it's private. We will face them on their own terms. A chance is all we need."

"Private?" The human beside the leader sneered at me. "So none will witness your failure and miserable deaths? You must know the tale will get out. Ashkirrash is hardly silent about his exploits."

I grinned, though the helmet would prevent them from seeing my expression clearly. "Private so no one will know exactly how we operate. An advantage concealed is an advantage maintained."

Yndorce nodded. "True. But I can't imagine what advantage could negate a trandoshan trio in territory they know and had time to prepare ahead of time."

"Exactly."

He considered us another long moment. "I'll see if we can get the message to them."

"I want to come with you," I said. "I give you my word, I'll not start anything until they've chosen a location, but I won't give them time to slip away."

"You intend to duel them today," Yndorce said. "That could be more difficult to convince them of. And your presence could be considered a breach of contract. It's one thing to deliver a message, another to lead hunters directly to them."

"My promise—"

"Means nothing. Bounty hunters hold to no codes but their own, and we have no way of knowing how trustworthy you may be. It's possible you are truly bound in honour by your word, but it's equally probable that you're just saying anything that will convince us to lower our guard."

He gestured to the man at his right who clearly wanted to shoot me on the spot. "Verc, go tell Ashkirrash that some hunters came along to challenge the Shskk-Sarshk. Return with his reply."

The man glowered at me, but crossed stiffly past us and to the door. It zipped open just as he reached it, slammed closed the moment he was through.

"Aggressive door you've got there," I commented. "If you're not through fast enough you could lose a foot."

"You are the most unusual hunter I've ever encountered," Yndorce said. "I wonder that we have not heard your name or description, if you are as skilled as you are confident. Most would be parading their reputation to any who would listen, if they were so young and certain of themselves. Yet you are startlingly discrete in your affect, have offered no hint about yourself. It's enough to make me wonder."

"They call me R," I said, not sure what instinct guided the words.

"R," he said, nodding slowly. "I had heard 'R' was in the smuggling business, not bounty hunting. And that she disappeared some time ago and hasn't been heard from since."

"Well, I'm back," I said. "And I'm taking a few easy planetside bounty targets for practice."

Yndorce, and the majority of his thugs, laughed aloud. "Practice? You would go after a trio of infamous trandoshans with only your silent friend there as backup, for _practice_? Your confidence continues to astound me, hunter."

I smiled. "Like I said, we have advantages."


	39. Nar Shaddaa: Part 5

"The trandoshans accept your challenge." Verc grinned, showing his teeth. "And even if I can't watch, they've promised me a full recounting of your miserable deaths afterward."

"I can make you no such promise," I said. "For when we win, it will be silent and dark, and no one will ever know just what happened."

I didn't doubt for a moment that they'd try setting up cameras to watch the whole thing, but that was another major advantage the Force gave us. We didn't need to see to fight. And my battle style tended to have a detrimental impact on any electronics in the vicinity.

"When and where?" I asked.

"We volunteered the lower levels of our training facility," Verc said, glancing to his boss. Yndorce nodded approvingly, and Verc continued, "and they graciously accepted. They require only an hour to mentally prepare, then you are to enter."

The human grinned nastily. "And I hope they let me spit on your bodies afterward."

I laughed. "You are such a stereotype, you know that? 'Nar Shaddaa, home of thugs like this.' You should go into holovids, I bet you could make a fortune."

Verc scowled. "Are you looking to get killed before the Shskk-Sarshk can get their claws into you? Because if so, I can oblige."

"I very much doubt you can, but Yndi here made a deal and I certainly hope he's honourable enough to keep it, or we'll have to kill you all and anyone nearby to be sure."

Verc's brow kept getting tighter and tighter as I spoke, his scowl growing more pronounced. "I should kill you myself," he growled.

"Very bad idea," I informed him casually, "but you're welcome to try so long as you don't mind condemning your entire group here to die with you. I can't allow witnesses to what we can do, you see."

I was very glad we'd decided to leave Onasi behind on this one. He would have been doing dumb 'honourable' things like yelling that we were Jedi and to run for their lives. A few more shows like that and we'd have plenty of reputation and no practice to show for it.

Still, despite my taunting, it seemed the angry human had at least a tiny modicum of honour or common sense or something. He continued to mock and threaten, but never went beyond words. We spent an hour in fairly enjoyable violent banter, while Bastila slowly grew more and more tense in the anticipation.

I tried to calm her mentally, but was having far too enjoyable a time bickering with Verc. And fear is one of the primary motivators of aggression, so I didn't put too much effort into it. Bastila's mental state would stabilize quickly once we were actually fighting, probably into too bland a state of calm anyway.

I wanted to get _on_ with this, the waiting was beginning to grate on me.

Finally, another gang messenger arrived to inform us that the arena area had been prepared to the Shskk-Sarshk's satisfaction and they awaited us below.

He led us to the elevator into the 'lower tunnels' which were actually maintenance and access routes for long-neglected service stations. The gangs had divided the labyrinth to match the territories above and rearranged the tunnels to their preference.

It was dim, the lighting not the best, but I could see doorways carved in pipes, roads divided down the middle or halfway up by inserted fencing or an uneven lattice of scrap.

It reminded me vaguely of the Taris lower city, the rust and neglect, but it still had that distinctly Nar Shaddaa layout. The air tasted thick and unpleasant, but my helmet filtered out the most offensive odors.

Standing in plain sight across the longest and broadest route stood the three trandoshans, wanted alive or dead for various infractions that I hadn't bothered to read against someone with the money to make it worth my time.

They hissed with laughter as Bastila and myself emerged from the elevator, stood to face them.

"Is true then?" The one to speak was the most yellow-brown of the three. Ashkirrash, if I remembered correctly. "Two hunters with names so pale and weak we have never heard them before, come to challenge us?"

"Did you think it deception?" I asked.

"We believed," the slightly blueish-green one said, "that you were posturing and didn't expect us to actually accept."

That one had to be Zekyss. He was a known sniper, accurate at extreme ranges, and favoured grenades in close combat. The heavy armour he wore was carbon-scored in more places than it retained its original colour.

"You're right in one respect," I said. "We didn't expect you to actually dare to face us."

 _Find any cameras or listening devices,_ I instructed Bastila. The Force wouldn't actually be able to pinpoint specific technology to us, but if you knew what you were looking for it was possible to make it out.

I couldn't do it, but Bastila just might be able to pull it off. Her Force sense was always stronger than my own.

The three trandoshans laughed, hissing and cackling. "You know very little of us, fool hunter, if you truly expected us to flee from such as yourselves," Ashkirrash said.

 _Three,_ Bastila relayed. _A camera just above the elevator, another at the corner ahead of us, and something else halfway down the middle branch to the left._

 _Can you destroy them?_ I asked.

Bastila nodded.

I brought out a modified gas grenade, tossed it casually in the air toward the trandoshans, and drew my pistol. Pulling in Force to increase my reaction speed and accuracy, I fired. The bolt hit the grenade in midair and it exploded, sending thick clouds of obscuring smoke.

The trandoshans fired, their blasters echoing like a single prolonged shot, their aim spread to cover us and any place we might try to dodge to.

Bastila fired just as quickly, two shots toward each of the cameras accessible from our position, then ducked behind the wall to the left. She wasn't the best aim, but once I knew where they were I could start deflecting the steady barrage of fire from the trandoshans.

I dropped below the barrage, rolled to the wall, and closed my eyes to focus my senses. The blaster fire pinged off the elevator, the walls, the ceiling. It only took a nudge with the Force to direct a few bolts up into the camera until it was melted into uselessness.

The smoke was rising, dispersing. In another minute we'd no longer have that concealment. I moved around the corner, down the passage that Bastila had indicated held the third possible listening device. I had to search a long half-minute before locating it, then blasted it with my disruptor pistol. Have I mentioned I love that gun?

Then something hit be from behind, sent me flying forward. I dropped my gun, caught myself just short of smashing face-first into the floor, and rolled aside as blaster fire pinged off the metal ground I'd occupied a moment before.

My movement was slow, tangled. A net? I didn't have time to disentangle myself, dodged another quick burst of shots, turned to find the third trandoshan standing quite near with an obvious grin as he casually fired. Errqish, close-combat specialist.

"One mistake," I said, reaching mentally to grab his scaly throat, lifting and crushing with the Force. "You came down this side corridor _after_ I took out the cam."

While one hand went instinctively to the invisible grasp on his neck, Errqish's other hand still held his blaster and he continued to fire at me. I used my other hand to deflect the bolts harmlessly into the walls.

 _Revan, I could use some help,_ Bastila called to me. I couldn't tell what was happening, couldn't hear any indication of her battle over the sounds of my own.

"What. . . are you?" the lizardman hissed. I dropped him, pushed his gun away, and pulled my own weapon back to my hand.

"I am Revan," I whispered, finally disentangling the net.

He wasn't intimidated. Weaponless and outmatched, he did the sensible thing and charged me bodily. He was well over a head taller than me, and wide enough that I'd be completely buried even with my relatively bulky armour.

I ducked aside, Force speeding my movements, added a push to send him smashing into the far wall, then turned to go. Bastila was holding her own, barely, but this was supposed to be a team exercise. And we weren't getting any closer to her using aggression to fuel the Force with me distracted here.

Unfortunately for me, while the 'far wall' did in fact block movement to that direction, it wasn't more than a cobbled-together barricade attached to the pipes overhead and the trandoshan's weight combined with the momentum of my push sent the whole thing collapsing.

And brought a sizable chunk of the ceiling down with it.

The Force warned me to duck, move, but there was nowhere _to_ go in the narrow corridor. I had no time to think, just pushed out with desperate strength to fling myself backwards. I smashed into a much more solid wall, incredibly thankful for the full-body armour we'd chosen to wear for this outing.

I shook off the collision, ran down the hall, blasted the last camera into scrap, then cast out my mind to sense the layout.

Bastila was two halls over, in a close engagement with both remaining trandoshans. I ran, slid around the corner, and shouted wordlessly to grab their attention.

Bastila stood between them, hands out to either side, eyes closed in concentration. Neither trandoshan was paying attention to me, and they seemed. . . almost tranquil as they stood. They had their weapons aimed at her, but their eyes weren't focused and they were breathing steadily and calmly.

 _I don't know what to do now!_ Bastila told me, even her mental voice unsteady with the effort. _I can't let them go, but I don't have anything else to do._

I just stared, astonished. I'd heard of those able to tame wild animals with the Force, but to do the same to angry sentients who wanted you dead? Even trandoshans were a whole higher level than a bantha or nerf.

 _Revan?!_

Bastila's arms were trembling with the strain, and I snapped myself to the matter at hand.

 _Okay, do you remember what you did before? Do you think you can focus the Force around them, constrict it, hold them physically instead of emotionally?_

She shook her head.

I reached out with the Force toward the nearest trandoshan, grabbed it roughly by the throat and lifted it off the ground. Bastila let that arm drop, breathed out in relief, turned to fully focus her attention on the other.

I felt mine - Ashkirrash, I realized - awaken sharply from Bastila's calming trance. He opened his mouth in a silent snarl, unable to get enough air through my crushing Force, but that didn't prevent him twisting his arm around to aim his blaster.

I shifted my aim, pinned his blaster arm against his chest and held him still.

"You will die for this," he hissed shallowly. "We do not forgive insult."

Before I could reply, the Force warned me to move. I dodged uncertainly. Too slowly; I hadn't been expecting another attack.

Something smashed into the back of my helmet, sent me flying forward. I wasn't injured, the heavy bounty-hunter armour assured that much, but my concentration was shattered. I turned, saw Errqish grinning behind a heavy segment of pipe he was twirling like a baton.

"Fight, brother!" Ashkirrash screamed as he landed on the ground, snatched up his other gun.

The sounds and flurry of our movement broke Bastila's focus. She spun instinctively, inadvertently allowing Zekyss to break free of her Force-induced trance.

Snarling, he raised his rifle in a swift movement.

"Bastila!" I screamed, jumping to my feet.

No more than a few seconds had passed, and we'd gone from assured victory to near-defeat.

Bastila ducked, spun away as the blaster bolt glanced off the wall behind her. But my attention on her gave Errqish the chance to smash me again with his pipe. We were all too close together, no space for thought, no space for the slightest mistake.

I staggered under the blow, the impact knocking me away but not enough to injure through the armour.

I grabbed the pipe with the Force, pulled it toward me and ducked so it thudded into Zekyss's face instead of striking me. Errqish dove forward, trying again to grapple me.

Bastila fired a steady stream of blaster bolts toward him, but was forced to dodge and run as Ashkirrash started firing both his pistols at her in rapid succession. She ran around the corner, out of range for the moment.

 _What do we do now?!_ she asked. _Should I use my lightsaber?_

I shook my head. _No, just try and focus. I know you can do this. Feel the aggression in the air, through the Force. Feel the speed, the movement, the desperation. Use it all. I know you can._

Blaster fire hit me, glanced off my shielded armour. But I couldn't hold up under a barrage like that for long. All three trandoshans, spread out in a close triangle, were focusing their attention on me.

I pushed out with the Force to throw off their aim, bolts bouncing off the walls and ceiling and floor instead of finding me. I called the Force to me, felt its flame growing, waiting. Lightning crackled around me, sparking off the metal walls.

 _Feel this, Bastila_ , I willed her silently. _You can do it._

She reached, fumbling and tentative, across the bond between us, toward the flame that raged around and through me. The Force curled and rippled at her touch, but she recoiled in instinctive Jedi-trained reflex from its purifying strength.

 _Come with me,_ I coaxed.

The problem was that the middle of deadly combat was the only time Bastila seemed able to even _sense_ the aggressive energy of the Force; she was normally too good at subconsciously suppressing or ignoring it.

We had no time.

Even the mere heartbeats required for that mental exchange equated to time enough for the trandoshan trio to recover from the sudden appearance of the electricity around my hands. I couldn't focus my attention on both controlling the battlefield and mentally coaching Bastila through the use of Force.

I left Bastila to her uncertain grasping, switched my full attention to the fight. My self-imposed limitation of not using a lightsaber was especially crippling in this close-combat. With two trandoshans rapidly closing to melee range, I was sorely tempted to just whip out my sabers and take one or both of them down.

I pushed outward but they were onto me by now, holding their weapons firmly and bracing against the wave of kinetic energy.

I ducked away, lashed out with my lightning to superheat Ashkirrash's blasters. He dropped them, smoke rising from his gloves. He hissed menacingly.

In future, we definitely needed someone more. Juhani, ideally. But even Canderous might be enough to hold the danger off just enough.

I couldn't imagine Onasi would be willing to cooperate. I had the uncomfortable feeling that he would be causing problems for us very soon, if I didn't do something drastic to stop him. And I would not - _couldn't_ \- let him dictate my decisions based on his weakling Republic ideals and mercy. This was a war in which the stakes were far too high.

The Force warned me just in time, a disruptor beam sizzled just beside my ear as I swung myself desperately back the other way.

"Spast."

Zekyss had loaded a disruption cartridge to his custom sniper rifle, and used the close-in distraction of his two brothers to gain enough distance that I couldn't easily take him out.

I narrowly dodged another beam, hissed softly to myself.

 _Bastila?_

She was sitting behind the corner, breathing hard, trying to meditate. It's not the method I would have chosen to get in touch with active Force, but she seemed to be edging in on it with deliberate care, so I left her to it.

I couldn't afford to end the fight, so I fell into a defencive pattern. This time I concentrated on moving quickly, dodging, jumping, sliding, flipping.

It was starting to wear on me even then, but I had to keep them frustrated, keep them distracted, and keep the Force energized and moving.

Then Bastila rose and stepped out into the corridor. Eyes closed, chin raised, she reached both hands toward Zekyss and made a swift clamping motion. In a burst of power the trandoshan crumpled, yanked into the air and held securely.

Unlike my own crush-type abilities, which compressed from the sides around something, Bastila's was more like a solid sphere that compressed from all directions. The trandoshan's knees were pressed into his chest, his neck bent as his head was forced downward. He could breathe and move within the sphere of pressure, but not in any useful way.

 _You did it!_

Pride glowed through the bond, echoing and redoubling between us.

The other trandoshans didn't last long after that.

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

 _This month marks the one-year anniversary of this, my first proper foray into fanfiction! Hard to believe I've been posting this story for a whole year now; and I'm kinda embarrassed by how bad the first. . . well, most of it, was._

 _I'm so so thankful for everyone who's lent their support, be it in favourites, views, follows, or comments. I doubt I'd have lasted this long if I didn't have the audience._

 _I've learned a lot this year, and I look forward to many more years writing for/with y'all!_


	40. Nar Shaddaa: Part 6

The next day, Bastila was violently ill, and Juhani finally returned to us.

I had no idea how to help my second-sister, Bastila's mental state was flickering between a sense of triumph and pride at her success and a deep-seated revulsion and disgust at herself that made her connection to the Force dangerously unstable. I stayed with her, tried to emit a calm stabilizing influence, but if helpful it was only marginally so.

She passed out sometime around mid-morning, feverish and restless.

I'd fallen asleep by her side, came awake with a start when I sensed Juhani's presence.

"How did you find us?" I asked, as she walked sedately into the medical bay.

"I know you very well, Revan," she replied, her voice calm and determined. "Now, where is Xor?"

I couldn't sense her thoughts or intention, she was completely centered and self-contained. It worried me to see someone normally vibrant and passionate act so subdued, but she moved with confidence that reassured me even as it was unsettling.

I knew at once that, whatever she'd decided, nothing I said or did could dissuade her. But as much as I wanted to go with her and see how she'd chosen to deal with her personal nemesis, Bastila needed me. So I gave Juhani the address of the group I'd hired to hold the twi'lek and my datapad with the identification and receipt for pickup. The credits would automatically be deducted for the duration of his imprisonment, I didn't actually need to be present for the transaction to complete.

She stayed long enough to focus the Force around Bastila, encouraging her toward strength and wholeness, but since the physical symptoms were only a physical reaction to the violent struggle taking place within Bastila's mind and soul there was little we could do for her.

After that, the cathar nodded to me and departed.

I centered myself in the silence, traced the thin flickering thread that connected me to Bastila. The connection pulsed erratically, some moments thick and bright, then fading to almost nothing. I reached through toward her, but her mind was well-trained and without Bastila's conscious consent instinctively rejected me as a foreign influence.

I hated the Jedi for what they did. Forcing children into one path, their path, and convincing them it was the only way. Bastila, Juhani. . . how many others could have been great leaders, brought positive changes across the galaxy, if only they weren't shackled by the Jedi Order's insistence on only interfering where they saw fit to?

How many others could have easily shone as brightly as me, were they given the chance? The name Revan would echo through history for centuries. But would anyone even know the name Juhani?

I'd seen her passion, the drive the Jedi tried so hard to suppress. Given the training to succeed but the freedom to choose her own way, Juhani could have become a great revolutionary. I knew she cared for her people, she could have united the scattered Cathar, brought them to. . . I couldn't guess what, exactly, not knowing enough about their culture. But she _could have_ done so much.

Would the name Bastila be remembered? Or only in connection with me?

"Join me, Sister," I whispered, letting my anger at the Jedi flare into unfocused power, drawing on the burning power that is the Force. _Come with me._

She shivered violently and awakened with a sudden jerk, sat upright.

"Bastila! Are you alright?"

"Revan," she gasped, then shivered again. "Something's wrong."

I nodded. "Your Jedi-trained instincts are trying to hold you back."

She shook her head. "No, not me. Juhani's in danger."

"Really?" I asked, frowning. "She was just here less than an hour ago."

Bastila grabbed my arm, looked at me intently. "There's someone else here, someone who wants to destroy you. He sensed us, after what we did—"

She broke off, looking suddenly nauseous.

I stood, anxious. "Is there anything I can do for you?" I asked.

She shook her head, grimaced. "I can recenter myself easily enough," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I fear I am too weak to follow your path, Revan," she said softly, voice heavy with regret. "I will try, but I may never be able to walk in power and freedom as you do."

She took a few deep, shaking breaths. "You need to go to Juhani," she said. "I'll be fine."

I moved the container of water closer, filled her cup. "I can't imagine who would want to hurt us. Bounty hunters? It seems too soon."

She shook her head. "He knows the Force. Holds it around himself like a shadow. And he sensed you, particularly you, yesterday."

"How do you know?"

"I felt it, burning power, visible even through his tight-woven shroud and the chaos around us. Be careful."

I nodded, sensed the urgency in Bastila's thoughts that her weak words couldn't convey.

"Don't worry, we'll be fine."

* * *

I found Juhani standing by an overlook, not far from the prisoner holding where Xor had been kept, staring out at the air traffic.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

She nodded.

I reached out, but didn't sense any danger to her or myself. "Have you seen anyone suspicious?"

She turned to me, frowning. "It's Nar Shaddaa."

"Bastila said she sensed danger to you."

Juhani gave a quiet snort of a laugh. "The only danger to me is losing myself to the darkness," she whispered.

I hesitated. "What did you do?" I asked at last, unable to restrain my curiosity.

"I killed him," she said, a bit unsteadily. "I know it was the right decision, but it makes me feel so cold."

"Not everything is easy," I told her. "If it means anything, I'm proud of you."

"I couldn't let him go," she said, turning away. "If I did, everyone he hurt from now on, any other of my people he slaughtered, would be my responsibility. I couldn't let that happen. And he refused. . . he never showed any remorse. Any sign of being more than a vile beast, a predator without mercy."

I heard the tears in her voice, stepped to her side and put my arm around her. "You did the right thing," I said. "It's alright."

"I've killed in anger, in battle. Never. . . like this."

"So this is where you're hiding." An unfamiliar voice rang out in challenge.

I spun to face the newcomer. He was human, wearing no armor over his civilian clothes. The only distinguishing thing about him was a thin translucent mask over his eyes and held in place by metal bands that went halfway around the sides of his head. Obviously utilitarian in design with no concessions to elegance, it did nothing to obscure his features.

I couldn't _sense_ him. Not at all. As though he were air.

"Still trying to corrupt everyone you meet," he said, and ignited a vibrant blue lightsaber. The cobalt light shone vividly against the dim lighting of the corridor.

"Do I know you?" I demanded.

"You once called me friend," he said. "I followed your orders. I believed in you. Until you betrayed us all."

"I don't remember those days," I said. "Who are you?"

"If you don't remember me, you wouldn't know it. And if you do, I have no need to say it."

Lightning sparked around me. "What is with you Jedi types and refusing to give a straight answer?!"

"I'm no Jedi," he said, maintaining his ready stance. "But I still fight evil where I can find it."

"I'm not evil!" I protested. "Leaving the Jedi doesn't make me evil. Choosing to fight rather than waiting around for the Sith to conquer us, doesn't make me wrong."

He chuckled, low, ominous. "I chose to leave. I choose to fight. You would try to make us out the same, but I know we are different. Look at yourself! You have so little control over your emotions, over your reactions. And what are you doing here? Killing. Teaching other Jedi to kill. We are meant to _protect_. Not conquer. Not rule."

"At least I'd do a better job than that wreck of a Jedi Council!" Fury built within me, burning hotter each moment. "I can see the galaxy falling apart, now is not the time to fight among ourselves! Why can't you see that I'm doing this for the Republic, for all the innocents and defenceless worlds that need Malak stopped? What are you doing? Can't you just leave me to it?"

The stranger shook his head. "Some things cannot be allowed, for any reason. Your goals may be what you say, or you may be lying. All I can believe is what I see for truth, and you. . ." he gestured down to the crackling power dancing around me, "you look even more like a Sith than most Sith I've met."

"Are you going to leave me alone, or do I need to prove my power directly?" I growled. "I didn't want to hurt you, but you don't seem to be leaving me much choice."

"I am here to stop you, Revan." He spoke without a hint of uncertainty. "Whatever the cost, whatever it takes to do so. Your reign of terror ends now."

I pulled my own sabers to my hands, flicked the red and purple beams into existence in the same motion. "I can't allow you to oppose me," I said, my own voice equally unyielding. "Last chance. Back down or die."

"If words will not sway you, then you leave me no choice," he said. "Last chance. Recant or die."

We sprang toward each other in the same instant. His blade caught by offhand saber, slid crackling down its length, forcing my stance wider.

I brought the purple blade around, not quickly enough. He ducked away, disengaged just long enough to throw a sudden blast of Force against me. I sensed it coming just in time, braced for the kinetic assault.

But we had both forgotten Juhani. With a snarl, she threw herself in front of me, absorbing most of the force of the push. It threw her backwards, landing behind me and to one side.

I sensed the fire of the Force within her, felt her channeling all her uncertainty and grief and rage into this new conflict. Grinning fiercely, I reached out toward her with the Force.

"Together!" I called aloud.

Juhani flipped to her feet, lightsaber igniting smoothly as she screamed wordlessly and charged. Our assailant leaped high, but Juhani sensed his intent and flung herself upwards with a flare of Force energy as well. They clashed in midair, blades sizzling and hissing as they tried to push each other over the moment they touched the floor.

He was better. He kept moving, flowing, striking and retreating just enough to keep Juhani between me and him. I couldn't get around behind him, he was fully aware of the situation and his surroundings, used the environment and his opponent to his advantage.

Juhani wasn't focused. She was lashing out, her repressed emotions from so long bubbling out in almost feral aggression. It would ultimately be good for her to have gotten it out, I was sure, but only if we survived this encounter.

I wanted to trade places, but right now her mindset would not work in a support role. And our opponent was clearly toying with her, a vastly superior swordsman to half-trained ex-padawan Juhani.

I had to get in there.

"Juhani, jump!" I shouted, charging forward. Smirking, the Jedi leapt into the air as well.

I ducked beneath them, rolled and blasted upward at him with lightning in a sustained overcharged beam. It threw him higher, disengaging him from Juhani and giving us a moment's space.

He tried to control his fall, but I pulled hard and brought him crashing to the ground between us before he could maneuver clear of us.

"You don't have to stay with her," the Jedi said suddenly, addressing Juhani. "You can still break free. Trust me, I understand how strong her pull is. The desire to just do whatever she says, believe whatever she claims is truth. But she's not always right, and you have to decide for yourself if Revan is really worth throwing away your soul."

"You're wrong," Juhani hissed, breathing hard. "You are _wrong_ about her. Wrong about me. That's not what I want, that's never what I've wanted. I believe in Revan because of what I've seen. Now, and before. She does what she must. No. _We_ do what we must. I didn't understand before today. It's so easy to overlook the darkness that lives inside every single one of us if it makes things simpler, but there is no such thing as a light Jedi. Only those who lie to themselves and others. If Jedi truly did as we - they - claim, if _you_ truly understood as much as you say, you would join our cause without hesitation."

"You can't save the galaxy by becoming Sith!" the Jedi shouted. "That isn't how it works! Haven't you read history? The Dark Side corrupts faster and stronger the more you gain power and control over others. Haven't you seen what she's doing?"

"I do what I must," I said, and threw another sustained blast of lightning into his unprotected back.

He screamed involuntarily, whirled to face me.

"Are you angry?" I taunted, firing a brief bolt of lightning which he dodged. "How does it feel, having your conversation rudely interrupted by someone who wants to kill you?"

"I can't believe I ever looked up to you," he spat, catching my next attack on his saber's blade as he advanced.

"I can't believe you forgot Juhani _again_ ," I retorted. He spun just in time to block the furious cathar's first attack barrage, but he was caught between us now and this time I wouldn't let him twist away.

I pulled him back as he moved to strike, just enough that he stumbled with the now-wild swing of his saber. The blade burnt a long backwards S onto the wall as he caught himself short of falling.

"Careful," I mocked. "You could hurt yourself."

Juhani closed in on him, matched his moves, kept him from maneuvering her between us again. He jumped high, trying desperately to get clear. He had lost his calm, was reacting with less perfect movements now.

I still couldn't sense him, only the ripples around him when he pulled on the Force, but that was enough.

"Don't follow him," I said quickly. "Push!"

Juhani checked herself just short of leaping after him, then caught my meaning.

His eyes narrowed suddenly as he realized his peril, tried to redirect himself to the side of the alley so he could grab a ledge or window.

Not quickly enough. Our combined push hit him, and sent him flying out over the balcony. He fell out of sight, plunging into the depths of Nar Shaddaa.

We stared after him a long moment, tension gradually fading as he didn't reappear over the edge. I put away my lightsabers.

"Do you think he'll come back?" Juhani asked.

"Not if he has any sense," I said. He'd probably survive the fall, but he wouldn't be able to get back up here easily or quickly. And if it had taken him this long to find us, he clearly didn't have a very strong ability to sense other Force-users.

I let the lightning die out around me. Juhani deactivated her own saber, clipped it back in place.

"Did you mean what you said?" I asked softly. "We, us?"

She exhaled slowly. "I do. I've been blind, willfully choosing not to look deeper. I wanted, so desperately, to believe that the Jedi were right. That I could live in peace and serenity, that I could somehow lock away this anger at the universe's injustice. But that's not truth, that's weakness."

Juhani slowly knelt, bowed her head. "You have always been right, Revan. My anger is my strength. Without it, Xor would be walking free. Without it, I would never have joined the Jedi. I am ready."

The tentative Force bond I'd extended fused into place, a thin impermeable thread of life and power connecting us.

I put a hand on her shoulder, triumph and pride flooding through me strongly enough that she looked up, startled.

"You have done well, Juhani," I told her. "This was not an easy decision for you to make, and the strength you've shown is far beyond that of most Jedi.

"Now rise, Third Sister."

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

 _Random subplot? Why not._

 _None of this was planned. I had half of Korriban written by the time I came back to finish the Nar Shaddaa sections, and nowhere did I have planned for Juhani to actually accept the position Revan's been trying to offer her. I may need to do some significant rewriting, but I follow the plot threads where they lead. By adding random Jedi dude in here Juhani was pushed into accepting her emotions at a particularly pivotal moment._

 _If that means half my future chapters are no longer relevant, well, such are the perils of writing out-of-order. The benefits, I believe, far outweigh these minor inconveniences. I don't have the next Nar Shaddaa chapter written yet, but I should be able to get it done on time, or at least within a few days after my usual update date._


	41. Choices: Part 1

Juhani and I returned to the _Ebon Hawk,_ and I couldn't help glancing around for any sign of our attacker. His unusual ability to disguise his Force affinity and completely disappear from my senses was the kind of thing that would have me jumping at shadows for weeks.

As much as I wanted to stay, train with Juhani, coax Bastila closer to accepting what she could become, I couldn't escape the sense that Nar Shaddaa was no longer a safe resting point. We needed to get away quickly.

It wasn't just the mysterious shadow-Jedi out for revenge. A looming sense of danger was growing at the back of my mind, and an increased sense of urgency to get to Korriban. I wanted to find the Star Forge and bring the fight back to my traitorous apprentice. Malak had held the upper hand far too long. It was time for me to take back the galaxy.

I went to the cargo hold, reluctantly finished categorizing and sorting through everything we'd collected, and sent Zaalbar and T3 to sell it all to the various merchants we'd decided on. I didn't want to leave without getting Bastila and Juhani their implant ports so we could protect ourselves from the overwhelming emotional attacks Malak's Dark Jedi favoured, but we were running out of credits. And time pressed in on me.

As soon as I'd finished sorting out what to sell and what to keep, I went to see Mission.

"We missed our appointments. Can you see how much it would cost to get Bastila and Juhani in within the next day?"

She nodded. "I'll make a few holocalls."

Sasha looked up from where she sat behind Mission's chair, playing on the floor with silvery shapes that snapped together and slid apart. She was building a small town, it looked like, but she left it and came over to me.

"Bad isca," she whispered, looking at the ceiling with concern.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"She says something bad is going to happen," Mission said. "Been worrying about it ever since you got home last night. I think she means Bastila's sickness—"

But Sasha shook her head, took my hand and stared up at me with wide eyes. " _Bad_ ," she insisted, jerking her chin to indicate the ceiling. "Run, hide."

"She tried to follow you out this morning," Mission said, turning away from her holoscreen. "Canderous brought her back. She was in quite a state, seems to have calmed down a bit now."

"I see you have been building," I said to Sasha, trying to change the subject. I sat down beside her silvery village. It was laid out like a Mandalorian war camp, the more I looked at it.

Sasha shrugged, came over beside me. She pointed to a small triangle near the center. "Sasha, bad home." She started assembling blocks again, and I smiled as I recognized the shape of the _Ebon Hawk_ taking form.

She set the ship beside the camp, smiled and moved the triangle on top of it. "Home now," she said. "Na bad."

"Not," Mission corrected. "Not bad."

"Nat bad," Sasha repeated, scowling slightly at being corrected.

I was surprised by how much they'd taken to each other. Mission had always seemed so self-assured, brash, and confrontational. I wouldn't have anticipated her having such a strong motherly side.

It made her seem years older.

* * *

Bastila sat cross-legged in her room, eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration.

I watched from the doorway for a long moment, but couldn't tell what she was trying to accomplish.

"Are you alright?" I asked quietly.

She opened her eyes, let out a long slow breath. "I am trying to remember that feeling," she said, shivering slightly. "I can't seem to manage it."

I brought my irritation at the shadow-Jedi's interference to mind, let power and fury flood into me. Lightning surrounded my hands at a thought.

"This feeling?" I asked, my tone sharper than I'd intended.

She stood, reached out a hand. I backed away, stifled the electricity before she could reach it.

"What are you doing?" I asked warily.

"Show me, let me try."

I frowned, worried now. It was one thing for Bastila to offer her life and soul to following me, another completely for her to be acting so reckless.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

 _I'm a weak coward, and a complete fool, and I have been too slow and I want power and I want freedom and my foolish Jedi-trained body and mind refuse to cooperate and I hate it and I hate myself and it's not enough—_

"No," she said, turning away. "I just want to try something."

I reluctantly brought my lightning back, let it dance around me, flickering out as it sensed her approach. She placed her hand in mine, didn't hesitate or flinch away as the lightning sparked and burned against her skin.

"What are you doing?" I asked, trying to pull away again, but she tightened her hold on me. "You'll hurt yourself."

Bastila's eyes were closed, her face tight with concentration. "No," she whispered through gritted teeth. "Stay still."

Lightning sizzled across her hand and wrist where she held mine, dancing and scoring. But my concern seemed shallow and uncertain against her desperation. Insufficient to deter her.

She gripped my wrist tighter still, her hand red and smoking. I didn't know what she was trying to do, but I couldn't just keep hurting her whatever she was doing.

I let the lightning fade away.

"Bastila, stop," I told her as gently as I could.

She shoved my hand away sharply. "It's not enough," she growled. "Why can't I reach it?"

She looked down at her hand, tears leaking from her eyes, though her expression remained fixed in a determined scowl. "It was almost there, I know it."

"Bastila, that's not. . . you can't just go doing. . . I. . ." I couldn't quite speak over the lump in my throat, didn't know what to make of her uncharacteristic behavior. Something was very wrong here. I swallowed, refocused. "We need to put some kolto on that," I said, gesturing to her hand. "You need to be able to use your lightsaber."

I reached for her, but she stepped back and glared. "You want to hold me back," she said. "You don't think I can do it."

Where was _this_ attitude coming from? "Bastila, relax. You're still recovering from whatever happened to you last night. You shouldn't be pushing yourself so hard. Rest. Recover."

"I'll never get stronger if I always back down!" she retorted. " _You_ don't stop and rest for days every time you can't do something. Why do I have to be the weak one?"

"Bastila. Stop. You're younger, and yes, weaker. That's part of being inexperienced. You can't expect to suddenly reach my level in a few weeks. Don't push yourself so hard, it's okay to take it slower."

"What did you _do_ to her?!" Onasi stood at the door, looking furious.

"I didn't do anything _to_ her," I growled, rounding on him irritably. "She wanted to try alternative training methods, which _aren't working_. That's all."

"Bastila, are you alright? Did she hurt you?"

Bastila raised her chin proudly, glared down her nose at Onasi. "Our training is nothing you should concern yourself with."

"What did you do to her?" Onasi's voice was horrified. "That's not Bastila."

"It is now," I said, strangely irritated by his concern. "And she's absolutely right, our training is none of your business."

"You've corrupted her, haven't you? Finally managed to tear down her resistance, turn her into another Sith."

Lightning flared up around me. "I'm NOT a SITH! And neither is Bastila!"

Onasi didn't draw his blasters, but it was a near thing. I suspected the only thing holding him back was the knowledge that he really couldn't realistically do anything to either of us.

"This isn't what I signed on for," he said. "It's bad enough sitting by and doing _nothing_ while you dance across the galaxy, ruining innocent lives in your search for the Star Forge. But at least then you had a goal worth pursuing, that could almost have atoned for the rest. And you were close enough to reasonable that there was at least _hope_ you could be saved."

"I don't need saving," I growled.

Onasi's fists grew tighter on his blasters. "Ever since you broke with the Jedi you've been getting more and more reckless, out of control. I'm not sure I even want to know what your goals are anymore. And I certainly don't want to stand by and watch you destroy everything and everyone you touch. It's over, Revan. I can't do this any more."

"We never needed you anyway," I retorted.

"I'm leaving," Onasi said firmly. "And I'm taking Mission, Sasha, and Juhani with me. They need to be away from you."

"No, you will _not_ ," I snapped, stepping toward him furiously.

He instinctively tried to raise his weapons at my threatening advance, but I grabbed them with the Force and yanked them away from his grasp.

"You are not going near my crew," I hissed, stepping right up to him. He flinched away from the lightning that surrounded me in a burning aura. "If you want to leave, then go. I considered you a close friend once, and I don't want to have to hurt you. But if you try to interfere with me or those under my protection, I swear to you I won't hold back. If you go, you go alone."

"You'd hold children with no say in the matter?" Onasi demanded. "Mission and Sasha, they're too young to know better. You'll twist them around just like you're ruining Bastila, tempt them just like you're always taunting Juhani. I can't just let you do that."

I laughed, surprising myself with how harsh and mirthless it sounded.

"You can't stop me. You know I've restrained myself from harming you in the past, and you also know how close you've come to death at my hand. Do you honestly believe that whatever you say now will change anything?"

I could almost see the fury burning behind his eyes, but he couldn't refute me.

"Bastila and Juhani are mine," I continued. "Mission and Sasha are mine. If you want to take Bindo, you're welcome to him; the old fool does nothing but study in his room and offer the occasional boring lecture or pointless anecdote. But my sisters are under my protection and I will destroy you if you try anything."

If Onasi had possessed even a shred of Force-sensitivity, he would have had a lightning aura of his own. Power sparked and crackled around me as we stared unflinchingly at each other, neither willing to back down.

He would in the end. He had no choice. My power was too great for him to overcome, no matter what tricks he decided to pull.

"I've tried, so hard," he said at last, voice quivering with rage. "You've been at the edge for a long time now and I've done my best to hold you back, keep you from stepping over into complete insanity. Why is it that you just won't listen? Why won't you let anyone help you? Why are you so stupidly arrogant as to think you can do everything yourself, do whatever you like, without consequence? Why can't you see what you're becoming?!"

"I am _becoming_ more powerful by the day now," I said icily. "I am _becoming_ strong enough to destroy Malak and Kareth and save the galaxy from their rule of terror. I am becoming what I must in order to do what we both know has to be done! You know as well as I do that they won't negotiate. When someone has that much power, there's nothing you can do without having at least as much power yourself! Before the Jedi did this to me, I was strong enough to keep Malak in check. Now look what he's done, the moment I'm out of the way? Destroying perfectly useful planets everywhere you look, no consideration for the rest of the galaxy, no thought to what he'll need to maintain his own empire even! Why do you keep choosing to stand in my way when we've been on the same side from the beginning?!"

"Because what you're doing is _wrong_! I know Jedi are powerful, and I also know that they _don't_ go around playing with people's lives and teaching each other to kill for fun! You're lost, Revan. You're so fixated on taking down Malak whatever the cost, you haven't stopped to think about what you're doing to yourself. If this goes on much longer, you'll be just like him."

"I will not," I said immediately. "I'll be putting the galaxy back together, not tearing it apart. Unlike Malak, some of us know _how_ to keep the universe spinning."

"Do you?" Onasi demanded. "Do you really? Because if your idea of running the galaxy is anything like the way I've seen you behaving on all these planets we've visited, then I'm not sure it's a galaxy I'd want to live in."


	42. Choices: Part 2

Onasi didn't pause long enough for me to answer, he just kept on ranting.

"Once, I went against my better judgment and let you intimidate me into cooperating. Once, I thought you could still be saved. That you needed time, patience, guidance. No longer. I've seen the truth you try to deny, and I won't be part of this any more. You can threaten me, hurt me, kill me, but this time I won't back down. I won't have it on my conscience that I stood by while you destroy the galaxy."

Force flared as I pushed out with both hands, sending him flying. For someone I once called friend, it was strangely satisfying to slam the stubborn fool into the wall. He grunted as he impacted, but recovered his balance without falling.

"Shut up!" I screamed, lightning sparking around my clenched fists. "Do you really want me to kill you? Is that it, you have some kind of death wish? Why can't you just follow orders? Isn't that what soldiers are supposed to do? You didn't have a problem standing by when it was the Mandalorians wrecking the galaxy, and now I actually want to _help_ things you're standing in my way? You're as bad as the Jedi. Why does everyone who should be helping me try to get in the way instead?"

"Because you can't see what you've become," Onasi retorted. "You're too busy making excuses and flitting from one thing to the next, never bothering to stop and look properly."

"I HAVE! I did. I do! I know what I'm doing. The Jedi try to lock us into their categories, dark and light, but there's power in emotion and power in action. That's where they're lacking. And you know what power peace and serenity offer? NOT what we need to stop Malak!"

I felt angry tears in my eyes, sliding down my face unchecked, but was too frustrated and furious to care about something so superficial. How many times did I need to go through this same argument before they'd just _listen_?

"Do you have any idea how much I've sacrificed for this strength? Do you think it was easy, coming this far? Do you think I just decided one day to abandon everything I was ever taught and forge my own destiny? I didn't give up, despite every obstacle, finally reached a place where I had the power to actually change things. And then."

I took a deep breath, felt it trembling with the emotion clogging my throat.

"Can you even imagine having everything you'd worked so hard for torn away and scattered in an instant, leaving you with nothing but a shadow of a plan and memories that won't ever fit together? I've lost so much. My time, my power, my self. Do you know how many people have died _directly_ because I wasn't there to save them? You see a handful of actions across a handful of planets and decide that I have to be stopped, well what if you succeeded? What if I gave up now, stopped chasing Malak and Kareth, settled down in Jedi rehabilitation and spent my time meditating? WHAT THEN?!"

"Then you at least wouldn't be making things worse!" Onasi snapped. "The Jedi were the ones who sent you to do this, remember? They can send someone else instead. It's not your responsibility—"

"IT IS!" I bellowed. "I'm the one who trained with Malak, who considered his temperament an acceptable risk balanced against his power. I'm the one whose job it was to keep him under control, keep our alliance going the right direction. And by letting the Jedi capture and weaken me, I failed in my duty. I have to make it right, and there's no one in the galaxy I'd trust to get it done without me."

"There, see!" Onasi said. "You've got a perfect example, _your own experience_ , of why you should stop while you still can. It didn't turn out well the first time and it won't turn out well this time."

"Are you deliberately misunderstanding me?" I snarled, pushing out with the Force to smash him into the wall again. " _Malak has to be stopped_. _That's_ the bottom line. That's what we've _all already agreed_ has to happen, has to come first. And I'm the only one who has a chance at it. You know it's true. You've seen the Jedi, you've seen the Republic. Are they stopping him? Obviously not! Are they even making progress holding him back? NO! How can you call yourself loyal to the Republic if you'd rather see it destroyed by Malak than saved by someone you disagree with?!"

"You just admitted that it was your lack of good judgment that led to this current catastrophe. Why is it so hard to believe that you might be making a mistake this time too?"

"I've never—"

I sensed her decision an instant before she moved, but I was so intent on my heated debate with Onasi I didn't react in time.

Bastila lunged forward, straight into the heart of my electrical storm. Her arms closed around me from behind, her indrawn breath accompanied with a burst of pain and triumph through our bond.

And this time, I couldn't just switch off my lightning. I was far too emotionally invested in the argument, my temper running furious, and my shock and desperation only flared my electrical aura higher still.

"Bastila! Stop! What are you doing?!" I tried to pry her arms off, but she clung to me and let the lightning sizzle through her. Her robes might have helped a little, but her face and hands were fully exposed.

I couldn't control my power with enough precision. Fear and anger only fueled it more.

"See what you've created?" Onasi spat. "This is madness, Revan. Like Malak, like _you_. You just can't stop yourself, and you're too powerful for anyone else to control. But if there's any way to save you from yourself, I'll find it. And if not, then next time we meet you'll probably finally carry through on your threat."

He turned and strode away, but I was fully occupied trying not to kill Bastila and gave him no further thought. I was immune to my own particular lightning, it being Force-energy that was innately attuned to my own signature, but Bastila had no such protection despite our bond. I tried to channel it away from her, but she was _pulling_ it into herself, as though wanting it to burn into her deeper and deeper.

As though pain would somehow unlock the aggressive powers she couldn't quite seem to reach on her own.

Fear was quickly taking over from rage. I struggled against Bastila's grip, but her hands clasped in front of me were impossibly tight. I could feel her uneven breath, her whole body tense as the lightning conducted through her.

I had to bring it under control. I took a deep breath, tried to calm my mind, but Onasi's infuriating idiocy kept replaying in my mind. _No, relax, just—_

A spark jolted into my chest, shocking me rigid. The sheer unlikeliness of it was enough to completely distract me, at least for a moment, from my desperation and still-simmering rage.

For a moment my lightning flickered out. For a moment I saw the blue-white power sparking between Bastila's hands, channeling into me. Then she relaxed her grip and toppled backwards away from me.

I spun to face her, lightning sparking back into life along my arms despite my attempts to suppress it.

"You know," came Bindo's voice from the hallway. "Someone should write a manual so young people don't do stupid things without thinking about the consequences."

I quickly stepped out of his way and gestured to Bastila. "Can you help her? I don't know what she was thinking. It's like she's suddenly fixated. . ."

Bindo nodded, looked at me with all too much judgment in his eyes. "Are you really surprised? You've been pushing for this since I met you. The poor girl didn't know what she was doing any more than you do."

Shame flooded me, enough to finally extinguish the power dancing around me, though exactly what I felt ashamed _of_ I couldn't say.

"Ah, what does it matter? You young people never listen. Come on, help me get her to the medical bay. I can treat her burns, but not prevent her from trying to hurt herself again." Bindo peered at me closely, then waved a hand. "Come on, hurry up. I've got better things to do than wait for you to finally get some sense in your head."

"You know," I said, "I really hate you sometimes."

He laughed. "Oh, trust me. I've been hated better many times over. You're practically inept compared to some who've hated me over the decades. Ah, the stories I could tell you."

"Please don't."

"Ungrateful scallawag. This is why you never learn, refusing to pay proper attention to history."

We settled Bastila in the med bay and Bindo set about treating her burns. For the most part they were superficial; my lightning is generally more spark and show than actual danger unless I'm consciously focusing it. But I also didn't usually have people _trying_ to hurt themselves on it.

"You know she did it all intentionally, right?" Bindo asked after we'd worked in silence for several minutes.

"Yes, she could hardly have _accidentally_ grabbed me so tightly I couldn't remove her," I said scathingly.

He snorted in almost-laughter. "No, the whole thing. _All_ of it. I've known you two to get upset and volatile, but never quite so quickly. Carth's been stewing for a while now, not actually wanting to confront you. Hoping there was some way to _save_ you. Heh."

"You're saying. . . Bastila was pushing us to fight?"

"Do you remember what her particular gift is, eh?"

"Battle meditation," I whispered. "Subtle mental influences. I didn't even notice."

"Well, of course you didn't. You two yell enough as it is, it has to be hard to tell the difference."

"This time was different," I said hollowly, wondering why I even cared. Onasi and I had been on opposite sides of an ever-widening gap for a long time now, so why did it hurt so much? "He's not coming back, is he."

Bindo didn't answer. He didn't need to.

I reached out, tried to sense everyone aboard. It only served to confirm what I'd already known instinctively. Onasi was gone. Not in his room sulking, not pacing the command room, not sitting in the cockpit.

I couldn't sense him at all. Wherever he was, somewhere out there on Nar Shaddaa his unique mental signature was buried among thousands of others.

"Good riddance," I said, firmly ignoring the choking sensation in my throat.

Another couple days and we'd be out of here for good. We could go to Korriban, build my army, find the last coordinate and finally wreak some vengeance on Malak.

I certainly felt like wreaking vengeance just then. And if Onasi had been present, I suspected I wouldn't have been able to limit myself to pushing him into walls this time.


	43. Choices: Part 3

With Bindo's help Bastila regained consciousness within the hour, though he insisted on dosing her with some low-level tranquilizers to prevent her getting aggressive and ordered her to rest in bed for the rest of the day while the kolto did its work on her burns.

I didn't envy her; Bindo's idea of bedside manner was to tell long and pointed stories from his boring past experiences.

Juhani seemed subdued. Given Bastila's uncharacteristic behavior, I thought it best to hold off on beginning Juhani's proper training in case Bindo was right. If my overeagerness was pushing Bastila too far too quickly, I couldn't afford to risk making the same mistake again. Juhani didn't ask for any assignments or training, and I didn't offer. We didn't exactly avoid each other, but the atmosphere on the ship was tense and uncertain.

Canderous finished work on Sasha's hiding spot behind the wall in the cargo bay, upgrading it to be as close to undetectable as possible and sufficiently stocked that she could survive there for a few days if needed.

The sense of danger continued to grow, looming in my mind, and I wanted to make sure that in case of anything terrible happening our youngest crew member, at least, would have someplace safe.

The more time I spent with Sasha, the clearer it became that she was Force-sensitive herself. Little things added up; the way she seemed to always know when I was coming, how she always seemed to pick up on the mood of everyone on board. And she could obviously feel the growing threat around us. She seemed skittish, as though she wanted to just run and never stop. If she hadn't been so attached to Mission and, to a lesser degree, myself, I was sure she'd have been off the _Ebon Hawk_ and long gone by now.

Bastila's mind tumbled through confusion in her uneven sleep.

And to me, everything felt uncertain. Just a little bit off, not-quite-right. Perhaps Juhani's mood was trickling through our fledgling bond, or perhaps I was just overreacting to losing _the first friend I ever had._

Onasi didn't come back.

I'd known he wouldn't, intellectually. But I kept feeling I would run into him just around the corner, find him pacing in his room, or come upon him sitting to polish his blasters. As much as we had always been relentlessly arguing, it still felt very strange knowing he was just gone.

There were no tears, no remorse. Just a tight emptiness. If I hadn't known that Onasi was completely mundane I'd have called it the echo of a broken Force bond, but he didn't have a trace of Force sensitivity.

I could reason it out easily, follow each step toward this moment. He just couldn't accept the things that had to be done on this path I'd chosen. It was inevitable from the moment we met. But that didn't make it any less painful.

I felt oddly aimless, off-balance. As though I'd lost something important that I hadn't realized I depended on.

I _had_ to get over this. He was gone. . .

and that was fine. He had made his choices, it was time for me to make mine.

I returned to the pilot compartment, pointedly ignoring the faintly lingering sense of Onasi's frequent presence, and set the computer to calculating the current route to Korriban. As soon as Z returned from selling the last of our unneeded valuables, we were leaving. Juhani had her implant ports now. Bastila, restricted to the med room, still did not, but I couldn't bear waiting any longer. We had a headband or belt or something that would serve a similar enough purpose, enough that we'd all be sufficiently protected should we encounter Malak's jedi followers.

I couldn't keep giving in to the weakness that drove me to look out at the crowds, trying to pick out Onasi as if he'd be coming back with an apology any moment. He wasn't a friend, wasn't an ally any longer. He was no more than another obstacle to confront, should it come to that, and if he never showed his face again. . . I resolved firmly, I would not care at all.

It was done, over, unchangeable. Not worth lingering on.

We'd wasted too much time here already. It was time to return to my primary mission.

Korriban would offer plenty of opportunity for Bastila to learn with whatever style she chose. If it took pain to spark her aggressive powers, then Korriban would gladly accommodate her.

The Sith Academy there would be a valuable asset to my cause, even if the planet didn't house one of the missing parts of the Star Map. I fully intended to do some heavy recruiting while there. The _Ebon Hawk_ couldn't take on more than a handful of additional passengers with any degree of comfort; I figured ten as the most we could carry at once. Room for three more, if we didn't mind it being a bit tight.

We'd have to requisition ships as well. Three sith apprentices - I held out little hope that Malak would have left anyone above the most basic level of training behind - would be insufficient to deal with what we had to face. While Bastila, Juhani, and I could probably take on Malak if we trained for a few years, it would take more than sheer potential to destroy my treacherous former apprentice.

I tabbed my datapad to financial status, frowned at the credit total. 18,371 credits was a good, respectable amount; for a merc outfitting themselves and a small crew, or doing basic maintenance and occasional repairs on a single ship. For someone hoping to recruit dozens of Force-sensitives and train them while flying an entire fleet deep into the unknown regions of barely-charted space? It was pitifully insufficient.

Outfitting and supplies alone for a group of the size I hoped to obtain would cost nearly as much. I could easily spend the full amount on a single person's equipment if I was going for the ideal level of quality.

Quality? The thought sparked something, a memory of a particularly advanced set of equipment.

Genoharadan. Right. My assassination/bounty contact on Manaan. I'd never returned to Hulas with news of my kill on Kashyyyk, had I? And they had some of the best tech-enhanced gear I'd ever encountered.

It took a bit of frenzied rummaging through the piles in the cargo bay that I'd deemed worth keeping, but I found the Genoharadan datapad they'd left with me. I stared at the unremarkable black device for a long moment, my burst of momentary energy dying down somewhat with the search's conclusion.

I returned it to the stack without activating it. I remembered the instructions well enough. But if I wanted to negotiate with them for a trade deal on advanced weapons and accessories, I was going to have to do it with more information in hand. Not to mention more credits.

So. I made a mental note to return to Manaan once I had finished recruiting on Korriban; that way I'd know how many and what to negotiate for.

I felt a tremor ripple through the Force. Just a little, but enough to bring my wandering thoughts firmly to the present. Z hadn't returned, and the ripple didn't match him or anyone of ours.

I stood quietly in the cargo bay, listening, reaching out to sense with the Force.

No one that shouldn't be here. Mission, Sasha, and Juhani were in one room. Canderous and Bindo in their respective rooms. Bastila lay restless in the med bay. So why did The Force resonate with danger?

I swept from the cargo bay, down the hall, past Canderous and to the open entry ramp left waiting for Z to return. The whole time I walked, I stretched out my senses to the force, trying to sense anything out of place that might cause this feeling of immediate and present danger. Nothing.

 _Nothing_.

I activated my lightsaber. "Juhani! I need you now!"

It had to be him. The shadow Jedi. He had found us again. Apparently throwing him off a building wasn't enough to dissuade him.

Canderous strode up behind me. "Something wrong?"

"Search the ship," I hissed, "quickly."

Canderous didn't hesitate. His weapons were out and in his hands in a moment. "Trouble?"

"Jedi," I said shortly. "Wants me dead."

Canderous nodded. "On it."

Juhani reached us before he'd taken two steps. Lightsaber in hand, she took up a position beside me. "What is it, Revan?"

"That Jedi, I think he found us again."

Juhani frowned. "I don't sense his presence," she said.

"I never have once, but I sense danger," I said. "More immediate danger than usual."

The deep background dread had continued steadily increasing for days, but this was a different feeling entirely.

"Canderous, did you find anyone?"

I waited for his reply, worried for a moment that he had encountered the Jedi and might be unable to answer.

"Nothing yet," Canderous called back. "Just the front compartments left."

Juhani rolled her eyes. "I hope you weren't trying to be subtle," she said.

"I am not in the mood for subtle," I said harshly. "If the fool Jedi wants a fight, I am more than happy to give it to him."

Something flickered at the corner of my vision. I turned quickly, but nothing was there. I took a step down the ramp, then another, Juhani just behind me.

"Did you see anything?" I asked, pointing. "Over there?"

She looked in the direction I indicated and shook her head.

"Is someone there?" Juhani called out.

The distinctive hiss-snap-hum of a lightsaber igniting was our only reply. I didn't have time to call for Canderous. I barely had time to raise my own blades. He came at us from a completely different angle, moving with The Force, faster and more accurately than anyone I'd encountered, light glinting maliciously off his transparasteel visor.

I turned, not quickly enough.

"Revan!" Juhani moved past me in a blur, her own lightsaber hissing to life as she threw herself between us. His lightsaber sizzled against hers, blue on blue. He spun away, disengaging, and pushed out at me with a quick, too-strong jab of kinetic Force before I even finished turning to face the threat.

I was caught completely unprepared. I staggered under the assault, lost my footing and nearly collided with the underside of the _Ebon Hawk_ as a second Force push sent me off the side of the ramp entirely.

His complete ability to conceal himself within the Force gave him too much of an advantage. He clearly sensed my movements, while I could only see his. There was warning in the air, but nothing specific. Nothing guiding where to dodge, when to block or push.

I felt blind, disconcerted enough that my anger took a moment to awaken. But the delay only served to inflame my rage as I recovered my stance.

With the way his presence in the Force was muted, I may not be able to target him specifically with the accuracy of my usual Force attacks at any distance. But this close, I didn't need the Force's help to aim.

The bolt of lightning blasted out from my hands and impacted him solidly. "Didn't get enough the last time?" I growled, power crackling around me as I spun.

He grunted, raised his blade to catch the continued stream of electricity and divert it away from himself. I let the attack die away, but it had done its job. His initiative was lost. From here out, the fight would not go nearly as smoothly for him.

I reached out to Juhani through our Force bond and felt her movements sliding into sync with my own. Not as smoothly or quickly as Bastila's would have, but enough to give us a distinct advantage. Enough to fully offset the way he hid his Force presence and prevented us from reading his actions.

Lightsabers hummed and clashed as we fought across the landing platform. This time our opponent didn't even try to talk us down. He focused completely and entirely on getting to me, ignoring Juhani except when she was close to hitting him or stood between us blocking his way.

I spun and slashed furiously, but my strength had always been with the Force, not in saber combat. He was quite adept at catching my lightning strikes, and irritatingly capable of ducking aside from kinetic assaults.

I sensed a crowd growing, people outside the open doors crowding around to look in at the spectacle.

Juhani and the unknown Jedi with their blue lightsabers, me with red and purple. Most of Nar Shaddaa's populace had likely never seen a single Force-user, much less three locked in deadly combat.

The outcome was inevitable, even before Canderous joined us. Driven by his single-minded attack on me, the Jedi fool took too many chances and left himself too exposed.

Juhani struck, the Force speeding her movements, and he dodged just a moment too slowly as her blade traced a sizzling line down his shoulder and back. Canderous brought his vibroblade around in one hand, allowed the Jedi to block, and while they stood locked his other hand suddenly held my disruptor pistol to fire at point-blank range.

The Jedi pushed out with the Force, disengaging Canderous and giving himself space to dodge the unblockable disruption ray, but the moment of distraction was more than enough time for Juhani and I.

A quick slash up with both my blades, and his lightsaber deactivated as his arm went flying. He stared in numb shock. Juhani leveled her blade squarely at his back, leaving him no avenue for escape.

"Why are you so determined to kill me?" I demanded, lightning flickering around my saber-hilts and down the blades, ready to destroy him if he tried to run or attack.

"You betrayed us all," he said, raising his chin defiantly, a wild expression on his face. "I only regret that I was unable to destroy you in person."

And then, he laughed. Through his grimace and despite silent tears of pain from his injuries, he stared down at me and laughed.

"Your days are numbered, Revan," he said, his voice cracking, torn between anguish and triumph. "If not at my hand, then another's. You've betrayed too many to escape justice forever."

I stared into his eyes, trying one final time to remember anything about him at all, but whatever interactions we'd had in the past were annihilated by what the Jedi Council had done. I couldn't place him. He didn't seem even the slightest bit familiar.

"Who were you?" I asked.

"Loyal," he whispered tremulously. "That's all I ever was."

Without warning, he seized the Force and pushed against me with all his remaining strength. I stumbled back.

So did he. Right onto Juhani's lightsaber.

A collective gasp from the people gathered outside brought them to my attention. So much for our secure hangar. Well, we'd be out of here as soon as Z returned.

I deactivated my lightsabers, feeling strangely unsatisfied as I stared down at our defeated enemy. He'd been so driven, so determined to revenge himself on me, for something I couldn't even begin to remember.

No true Jedi, as he'd said at our first meeting. An enigma, one I hadn't been able to solve.

I pulled his lightsaber from his arm's deathgrip, examined the hilt's workmanship. Standard Jedi weapon, standard blue Guardian crystal, but with an added focus. I activated the blade, examined it. It was thinner, pulsating faster than a usual blade.

Relative heat was difficult to determine with something that could melt through most things in seconds, but I got the distinct impression that the blade burned a little bit hotter and sharper than usual. The thinner blade wouldn't really be a disadvantage in any praictical sense; the width of the beam was largely irrelevant.

Nodding to myself, I passed the blade to Juhani. "If you want to try two-saber techniques, I'd be happy to teach you. If not, consider it a backup."

She nodded, accepted the lightsaber.

"And as for _you_ ," I said, glowering down at our defeated foe, "I really hope you have some credits on you."

He did not. He had only a single datapad, two years out-of-date and permanently disconnected from the holonet, locked down with a password that I had no idea how to go about breaking. His visor turned out to be the most interesting thing about him. It, I quickly discovered, was responsible for blocking his Force emanations and hiding him from our senses. Unlike some ancient masks I'd heard tell of, which blocked both incoming and outgoing Force abilities, it had been extraordinarily perfectly shaped to deflect any attempts at reading, affecting, or predicting his thoughts, while still allowing him full access to his own Force repertoire.

I took that for further examination; I had a feeling it could prove very useful. If I could sneak up on Malak without him sensing me, if I could prevent him reading my future moves, I might actually stand a chance at taking him on directly.

Though it didn't remove the day's many disappointments, that small piece of hope was enough to, just a little bit, begin to correct the imbalance that I'd been feeling.

* * *

 _Author's Note : This will be the last chapter for a bit; I'm taking a posting break from all my projects for the month of November while I concentrated on high-volume rough-draft output. My current plan is to resume updates around December 17, 2017. If holiday, family, or work interferes, the fallback resume date is January 7, 2018. _

_The next chapter will conclude the Nar Shaddaa chapters and begin the Leviathan arc, which is pretty much the whole reason for the fic's M rating. From here on out, the story will be turning considerably darker. You have been warned.  
_


	44. Choices: Part 4

The _Ebon Hawk_ crept out of Nar Shaddaa airspace, ripples of danger resonating through the Force to me from every direction.

We couldn't escape. Something terrible was coming, coming soon, coming close, and there was no escaping it.

"T3, you have that course laid in?" I asked, keeping my attention on the controls. We were still too close to the moon to initiate a hyperspace jump.

T3 beeped an affirmative. The moment we were free of Nar Shaddaa's gravity well, we'd be safely on our way to Korriban.

 _Too late. Too slow._

"Can we go around the planet a ways?" I asked, angling the ship. Something was out there, waiting, and I didn't want to face it.

T3's reply was much longer this time.

"How long would it take to recalculate from half a planet away?"

T3 beeped scornfully.

"I understand how complicated hyperspace jumps are, thanks," I said. "I'm asking how long."

He finally admitted it would take somewhere between half a minute and five. Which was too long. Minutes were long enough for other things to move too.

Dread settled itself around me like deep water, pressing in against my resolve. I could go back, hide out on the surface, hope that given time whatever threat waited out there would just leave.

But I couldn't be sure that wouldn't just lead to being trapped there as well. If whoever it was really wanted to find us, they could do so on Nar Shaddaa's surface just as easily.

Who would it be? Had Onasi called for the Republic to blast us from the sky? Had Malak's followers come to avenge their losses? Did the unknown shadow-Jedi have allies to destroy me? Or was it something else, someone else I'd offended and forgotten about?

It didn't matter. The Force was warning me to run, as fast and as far away from here as I could, and I was not going to ignore its warning out of misplaced curiosity. I would escape, if I had anything at all to say about it.

We drifted along the course T3 had selected for us, flying casual. Without knowing the threat, I didn't want to attract attention. There were dozens of ships leaving Nar Shaddaa airspace at the same time as us, many of which were considerably larger or smaller, faster-moving or slower. I did my best to maintain a steady, center-of-the-pack sort of profile. Not standing out in any way.

I followed first one shuttle, then a freighter, carefully not staying predictable. We could slip out, just a little farther. . .

The first shuttle reached the edge of Nar Shaddaa's gravity well and disappeared into hyperspace. The freighter joined it a moment later. The _Ebon Hawk_ slid free. . .

I slammed the activation lever, sending us sprinting into hyperspace. No one seemed to have seen or noticed us, no one had attacked or tried to impede our progress. But the rippling threat didn't fade, seemed in fact to grow stronger.

Bastila sat in the copilot's seat, concern pulsing off her in waves that only exacerbated the dread that continued to press against me. Juhani and Bindo stood in the compartment as well, watching from behind us. All of us felt the danger, the warning.

"Do you think it's Korriban itself that is the threat?" Juhani asked at last. "It's possible that by choosing to go there-"

The ship dropped out of hyperspace without warning. Alarms began flaring, the proximity alert blinked wildly, and a Sith Interdictor loomed straight ahead of us.

My heartbeat spiked, adrenaline racing through me even as the warning in the Force grew to nearly unbearable strength.

"Where did that come from?! T3, get us a route out of here, now!"

I veered hard, trying to reroute us away from the looming ship, revved the sublight engines to their maximum, but only elicited a worrying reverberation through the ship as the engines strained uselessly. Our course didn't change as we were dragged steadily toward the Interdictor.

"We're caught in a tractor beam!" Canderous called from the engine room. "Turn everything off for now, I'll see if I can do something to boost the engines. Don't turn it on until I say so."

I flipped the controls to power down, a thread-width away from full panic.

Bindo muttered something about his old bones and sat down, while I hurried to the engine room. Bastila and Juhani followed.

"What can we do to help?" I asked Canderous, who had pulled three panels off the wall and was currently rewiring something.

"Nothing at the moment," he replied, not looking up from his work. "Send T3 in, he might be a help. But you might think about what to do if we're boarded. There's a more than even chance that they'll have us before I can finish here."

I ran to the front of the ship, ordered T3 to go help Canderous, knowing it would be too little too late. The brief glimpses through the viewports made it clear that we were being dragged far too swiftly toward the interdictor.

The nearer the tractor beam drew us, the stronger it became. I felt the cold emptiness of the ship above us, somehow tangible in the Force, looming over us like an omnipresent cloud of despair.

"Alright, we need a plan," I said. "We need to destroy the tractor beam if we're going to get out of here, and disable their interdiction fields if we don't want to be sucked right back in."

It was a Sith ship. Meaning Malak, or his agents. Probably not Malak himself, since I sensed no Force signature strong enough to be him. That gave us one advantage.

"They'll probably know better than to lock me up normally," I said. "For Bastila and I, they'll probably use neural inhibitors. Juhani, they don't know about you."

"I am quite skilled with Force camouflage," Juhani said. "If I had a stealth field generator, I could pass almost completely unseen by all but dark Jedi."

"Good. Excellent. There's a black unbranded stealth field generator in the cargo hold. Use that, it's the highest quality. You will slip out of the ship the moment we touch down, before they can board." I hesitated, trying to decide the best use of her abilities. "Your first priority is staying undetected. Watch. See where things are, where they take us. We can't waste too much time, they'll send for Malak the moment they realize who they have."

Mission and Sasha entered the room then, Sasha clinging to Mission's arm and obviously terrified, Mission looking worried and confused.

"Sasha, we need you to go to your hiding spot and stay there. Canderous has food in there for you, you should be fine for a few days, but you have to stay out of sight. Don't come out until you hear one of us telling you it's safe."

"Are you all going to leave?" the girl asked, voice unsteady, switching to mandalorian in her distress. "What's going to happen?"

I didn't have _time_. Every moment brought us closer to that looming peril, we needed to plan.

"It's going to be fine, Sasha," I told her firmly, willing my own voice to stay steady. "The bad men are going to take us away, but we are going to escape and come back for you so we can all run away together. Get your datapad and anything you'll need right now, go hide, and don't come out. Okay?"

Sasha nodded. "Revan, home," she whispered through tears, hugging my waist.

"I'll come home," I promised. "If there's any possible way."

Sasha hugged Mission, the twi'lek returning the gesture, then scampered off toward the room she and Mission shared.

The dark ripples in the Force made the threat clear. I couldn't sense my treacherous apprentice aboard the _Leviathan_ , but he would be coming. We would have no more than a day or two before they were able to rendezvous, and once we were in Malak's power it would be over.

 _We're not ready for this!_

Bastila put a hand on my shoulder. _Peace, calm yourself. We must plan now, remember?_

Her mental voice snapped me back to the present. I sent her my gratitude, then turned my attention back to Juhani.

"Your priority is gathering everyone else and creating an opening. Don't try to come for Bastila and me until you know you can succeed. I don't doubt we will be very heavily guarded, and if you risk a daring rescue attempt and fail the galaxy is doomed."

"I'm sure I can trick the guards into making a mistake," Mission said. "Everyone underestimates the little twi'lek girl, but I can slice my way out of any cell they put me in."

I nodded. Backup plans were always a good idea. "Get anyone out that you can, find Juhani if possible, but prioritize staying safe and hidden. Tractor beams, shields, and weapons need to be disabled and backups sabotaged. We need to know where the _Ebon Hawk_ is being kept. We need a clear route between wherever they hold us and where the ship is. We need to break everyone out and coordinate teams so no one is left behind. Can you two handle all that?"

Juhani nodded, Mission more reluctantly. "I can break any computer system you point me at, but I don't know _that_ much about ships," the twi'lek said.

"Get Canderous to help," I suggested. "He knows ships best of us all."

T3 entered the room, beeping despondently.

"He _what_?" I demanded, whirling on the droid. "Didn't he know that was dangerous?"

T3 replied that Canderous said he knew what he was doing, and tried to overcharge the engines to break us free. But it was too late, and he hadn't sealed the bypass well enough, so the circuit shorted and something had _exploded_.

I took a breath, then another. It was hard staying focused, the heaviness of that fear kept seeping into me. And this time it wasn't a dark Jedi trick, this was my own.

 _Have I truly become so weak?_ I demanded of myself.

"T3, is there any way you can prevent them repurposing you and wiping your memory?" I asked. "If you can get access to their systems and move freely while they assume you're one of theirs, you can work as coordinator for Juhani and Mission while they try to find everyone, and tell them how to sabotage the ship's systems safely."

Canderous was tough. He'd survive. He _would_.

But the ship jolted, and time for thought and planning ended. Threat and dampening blankness surrounded us, seeming to press in from every side. Adrenaline raced through me, my lightsabers leapt to my hands.

"Juhani, go find that stealth generator and disappear. Mission, check that Sasha is secure. T3?"

He beeped that he was working on something, so I left him to it.

"Bindo!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he said, walking into the room. He'd changed his outfit, now wore dark brown robes that were shorter and heavier, clearly intended for close combat. His lightsaber was in his hand, making him look less like a useless old man and more like a weathered and seasoned Jedi.

"You and Bastila and I will hold the top of the ramp as long as possible, to give Juhani as much of a head start as we can. When they capture us," I hesitated, dread curdling in my stomach, "the three of us will be their highest priority," I finished. "We'll be the best-guarded, the most secure. And whatever they try to do to us, we _can't_ let on that Juhani is out there. Nothing else is important. Say whatever you have to. As long as they don't know we have the advantage, we should be able to escape before Malak arrives."

Bastila and Bindo nodded in agreement.

Then the _Ebon Hawk_ powered itself on as the external override cut through the security, and the boarding ramp descended to let the invaders in.

Canderous unconscious, T3 busy, Juhani invisible.

Bastila, Bindo, and I stood at the top of the boarding ramp, red and purple and green and gold lightsaber blades the only things clearly visible in the dim emergency lighting.

Then Sith soldiers came, in pairs and rows and squads, and there was no more time for thought. Only motion.

Protection and desperation. The Force humming between Bastila and myself in a harmony that promised death to our enemies.

In the chaos and confusion I barely even sensed Juhani slip away, unnoticed by our foes.

They had expected us to fight back. They hadn't anticipated how well we would do so. Bastila and I fought in perfect sync, blades spinning and flashing with no margins of error, fighting in such close quarters, but never once did we misjudge our aim and so much as singe the other's clothing.

Sith troopers came for us in waves, in trickles, in floods.

Adrenaline slowed, burst-energy shifted into precision and metered movement. The Force pulsed within us, through us, between us.

If we had not already held a bond, those hours holding back the Sith forces would surely have created one.

But eventually we slowed, muscles and minds too tired to maintain the same flow. Eventually even the Force wasn't enough to hold back the seemingly endless tide. A soldier got too close with his stun baton, a squad ran right up to us with gas grenades primed to detonate. We lost ground, lost focus.

I heard Z roar a challenge and saw a blur of wookiee fur rush past me-

I sat against the wall, lightsabers inactive in my hands, wondering hazily which of their many many tricks had finally bested us-

I didn't remember backing to the wall, didn't remember falling.

I remembered Bastila slipping away from me, her hold on the Force, on consciousness, giving way moments before my own.

Then, only darkness.

* * *

 _Author's Note : Slight edit May 14, 2018; corrected uneven tense._


	45. Leviathan: Part 1

I awakened to pain.

I knew about torture cages, of course, but never experienced one before. Unlike a standard force-cage, the beam of energy was not hollow. It was solid, the slightest movement sending electric prickles through nerves that screamed in protest.

Even the shallowest breathing rippled pain across my chest, my throat. My first attempt to open my eyes burned like fire, white-hot, searing through my head. I flinched back instinctively, the motion setting my entire body aflame with sourceless pain.

 _I am stronger than this,_ I told myself, subjugating my reactions against the pain. _Physical. Only physical._ My mind reached out, my senses attuned to the Force. I stilled my trembling body, settled my breathing into a slow rhythm that moved as little as necessary. Accepted the pain that came with each breath, inhaled it, twisted it to rage.

That was a mistake. Electrical fury gathered around my hands, and the torture field absorbed it instantly, pain intensifying with each second as my lightning actually _strengthened_ the field.

It was a struggle to bring the lightning under control, harder than I had expected. I'd never practiced _suppressing_ my Force abilities. _I never imagined the ability to summon lightning would be a detriment,_ I thought, berating myself.

I exhaled pain, breathed it back in. _Bastila?_

I sensed her nearby, still unconscious. Bindo was here too, each of us encased in our own pillar of torturous energy. He was unconscious as well. Mercifully so, I supposed.

My weapons and robes were gone, my thin undergarments no protection against the energy field that sparked and stung my skin with steady discomfort.

Eyes still closed, breathing calm and slow, I reached out farther with the Force. Tried to sense if there were any dark Jedi, if Malak were here yet, if Juhani was still free. But a dark fog twisted through the ship, as though the very metal of its walls contained a malignant force of hatred and evil.

Impossible. A _ship_ couldn't be evil. Not that detecting others had ever been a specialty of mine. It could be merely my own weak range.

Then the door hissed open. I brought my head up, blinked my eyes open a moment in pure reflex. The searing, blinding pain that accompanied the motion made me gasp involuntarily, barely able to suppress my reactions even to just that, but I stared defiantly at our captor.

I recognized him, though I'd never seen him in memory. Admiral Saul Kareth, Malak's closest confidant. One of those who'd betrayed me.

He raised a hand in signal, and the cage's pressure lessened. A jolt of energy and brief precious relief shot through me. Kolto? How?

Bastila awakened, I felt clearly the moment she returned to consciousness. Bindo stood mostly upright, supported by the cage's electrical field, body lolling aimlessly with his even breathing. Still unconscious.

"So, where shall we begin?" Kareth asked, hands clasped behind his back as he watched us dispassionately. "The arrogant padawan, or. . . you?"

"I'll save you some trouble, Kareth," I said harshly. "Surrender now and I will kill you quickly."

He chuckled, raised a finger. The suppression field disappeared. The pain returned, tingling through me with every motion, every breath.

He watched us, silently, waiting.

The minutes passed.

Pain.

Frustration grew, trembled through me. I wanted to scream, to lash out. And I knew that this was still the cage's lowest possible setting. Basically standby mode.

I filtered my frustration into rage, boiled it down to hatred, condensed the entire power of that promise of vengeance into defiance.

"I am Lord Revan," I proclaimed, raising my hands despite the sting and burn of the motion. Spread out wide, to my sides, encompassing everything before me with an arrogance that promised destruction if opposed. "Bow to me or you will be destroyed. This is your final warning."

Kareth laughed, a quiet genuine sound. Not mocking or taunting, just amused.

"Very interesting, the Jedi chose to allow you loose upon the galaxy? I would have thought you would be hidden away beneath some Jedi temple the moment the name Revan passed your lips."

I sneered at him, _pain,_ laughed mockingly. "As though I would allow myself to be controlled or contained. You've had your chance, Kareth. Now you are a dead man. The only question is how long I will take to finish you."

"You are defiant, but I have dealt with defiant Jedi before. You will not be the first I had the pleasure of breaking, but you may be my proudest. Imagine, doing what Lord Malak and the Jedi Council combined could not do - defeat Lord Revan."

His voice was still calm, steady. I hated him, wanted him dead. I wanted to reach out with crushing Force and choke the breath from his body. Well, why not? There was nothing to stop me.

I brought my hand up, pulled through the Force to connect my movement to the Force that lived within him, began to squeeze and compress.

His mouth opened in a single futile attempt to gasp for breath, then he raised a hand clenched into a fist.

Agony slammed into me, every part of me, flaring and searing as though I'd be burnt away to nothing, but without end and without relief. The Force was forgotten in an instant, my concentration shattered. If I screamed, I couldn't tell. The pain consumed everything, sight and hearing whited out to nothing against that sensation of endless, limitless agony.

No longer just across my skin and surface, it seared through the muscles, the blood in my veins. My throat burned inside and out, the air I breathed was like acid in my lungs. I gasped, my focus irretrievable, and collapsed to my knees.

Then it faded, the cage's power returning to something almost bearable. I gasped, any control abandoned, felt tears burning on my face. The field was flickering, no longer possible to ignore or predict, the pain impulses fluctuated randomly, rippling across my body in uneven waves. I didn't want to stand, didn't want to move, didn't want to do anything that would hurt more.

But I was Lord Revan. I would _not_ be defeated by a mere _underling_ with a torture cage. I forced myself to my feet.

Kareth coughed, but chuckled as he dusted himself off. "You think you are the first Jedi to try killing me with the Force? Neural disruptors do not play nicely with the torture fields, but the field itself can be quite useful in serving a similar purpose.

Bastila was shaking visibly, and remorse flooded me as I realized she'd been punished for my defiance as well. I could sense her own pain echoing through our bond.

Kareth stood and waited. Watched impassively as we suffered, just the slightest trace of a smile hiding in his eyes.

 _This is nothing_ , I told myself, recovering what little control I could over my breath and reactions as the seconds burned by one after another after another, and I forced myself to appear as impassive as our tormentor, and I couldn't think and I couldn't _focus_ and though I wanted to crush him now I couldn't, the constant _pain_ the distraction the anticipation the dread the fear the _PAIN_.

I didn't move, my crumbling resolve holding only to that one thing. I could break inside, I could give in, I could lose myself, but I couldn't let him know it. That above all was the one thing I would not let go I would _not give in_.

My body spasmed, tremors wracking it. I stared impassively. _Pain_. Focus. I gathered Force in my hand, it fled, scattered, drawn away by the energy field. Sharp increase in discomfort.

Lightning. Wrong form. _Pause_. Force to crush, focus. _Pain_. Fire pulsing through me. Suppress, accept, control. . . _focus!_

"You watch me, you should be looking to your friends," Kareth said mildly. "You always had a weakness for your subordinates. Always empathized with them too much for any proper Sith Lord. Are you really going to stand there and let them suffer?"

"What do you want?" I hissed, trying to make my voice sound more angry than pained. It barely worked.

Something was building within Bastila, steadily and unendingly. Something between rage and exhilaration, something far more worrying than mere pain. It was hard to think just why, I couldn't quite bring it to mind properly.

Kareth tapped a finger in the air, and the second layer of pain dissolved. The steady inflow of discomfort with my breaths seemed quite tame now. My body still trembled, still protested its mistreatment, but I could almost think straight.

"I do wish to ask a few questions. I don't doubt that you can resist physical torture for a significant amount of time, Revan, and I'm sure Lord Malak will arrive to oversee the remainder of your interrogation personally long before such mundane methods succeeded."

I almost laughed at him. Apparently my former self was stronger than this broken and remade version in more ways than just mastery of the Force. But I clung to that thread of hope. If he didn't think I could be broken by pain, maybe he wouldn't try properly.

I inwardly winced. That was both cowardly and pathetic. Kareth was not the sort to show mercy. If he thought me unbreakable, he would only try that much harder.

"But we both know your loyalties have proven incredibly flexible in the past. And even the strongest hero has trouble watching those they care about in pain," Kareth gave the smallest smile. "Each time you refuse to answer, or attempt to lie to me, Bastila and this old fool will suffer just as much as you. No matter how much pain you can resist, a young Jedi padawan pushed through her training too fast and an old man are another story. Their lives will, of course, be preserved. Their sanity, well, that remains for you to decide."

"We will— never—" Bastila gasped. She laughed, a broken sound like a sob, but it held a core of steely fire. "You are— a fool if you think— aaah. . . Lord Revan would— fall to one like _you_."

"On which planet is the Jedi Academy where you trained?" Kareth demanded.

"Dantooine," I answered quietly. "They're on Dantooine."

Kareth offered the faintest hint of a smile, nodded. Bastila hissed angrily, but I knew it was for the fact that I had submitted rather than the betrayal of the Jedi. She was truly mine now, and there was a shred of sadness in that knowledge. That however painful my path may be, she would follow me regardless.

"I'm glad you can be reasonable, Revan. You should know this first question was a test, Malak is even now returning from its smoking ruin. Did you really think the Jedi could hide from him there of all places?"

I glared into his eyes. "It is of no consequence to me what the Jedi do or say. I have rejected their order and will build my own from the wreckage. A few more ashes behind me will do nothing to slow my rise."

"A brave front, but you know that the Jedi would have attempted to recapture you once they learned your whereabouts. For them to 'rescue' you from us would be desirable for you given the alternative. Now, there is no hope."

"I would sooner die than be captured by the Jedi Council again," I said, loathing thick in my voice.

Kareth tilted his head. "Indeed? I do believe you mean it. How fascinating. Now, tell me your mission. There must be a reason they let you leave their enclave alive, what were you to do to stop Lord Malak?"

"I am going to kill him," I replied evenly.

"Do you take me for a fool? The Jedi are not assassins, they would not conceive of such a plan."

He raised a hand, but I seized it with the Force, twisted and _pushed_ , sent him flying backwards. I was anticipating the agony that flooded me this time, and while I could not completely mitigate its effects I did subsume the majority of its first touch into cold fury before it could overwhelm me.

"I told you already that _no one_ controls me or my actions," I snarled with my last shred of coherence. I couldn't think, couldn't focus enough to bring the Force back against him.

But I could hate. I let the lightning build around my hands, my arms, let it feed into the torture field, let the pain overwhelm me. _Encouraged_ it. Hatred and fury and defiance roared through me as I pushed my lightning stronger still, allowed my weak mere physical body to convulse and spasm as the fires of agony built to unbearable heights-

 _I'm sorry Bastila,_ I whispered in my mind, but if she replied, I didn't hear it.

Unconsciousness reclaimed me, but even there the pain followed.


	46. Leviathan: Part 2

I awoke to agony.

Kareth had left the fields on a moderate setting. Sporadic pulses of deep-burning combined with the almost-predictable flares of stinging surface pain and the steady ache that had permeated my chest and throat from breathing within the field over however long I'd been unconscious.

I moved more freely now, the fact that everything hurt everywhere made it easier for me to disregard the pain of movement, override my instinctive fear with sheer determination. I groaned and straightened. The pressure of the field wouldn't allow us to naturally fall to the ground; Bindo still lolled limply in a semi-upright position.

Bastila awakened shortly after myself, gasping and blinking.

Kareth stood watching. I hated him, more than I had ever hated anyone. The Force wouldn't come to me, I was too exhausted to even summon the energy or focus for proper anger.

Another pulse of unbearable heat froze through me, traveling with painful slowness down and across my body in a wave of torment. It left a tingling chill behind that amplified the throb of even the weakest sting for minutes after it passed.

Right on the heels of the first, a second slow pulse shuddered through me to further amplify the torture.

A whimper escaped my lips, involuntary; I was completely unable to suppress it.

The fluctuations were impossible to predict, impossible to anticipate. Though they generally were spaced at least several minutes apart, they could appear any second. And the tight dread of that knowledge locked my body in fear. Not mental fear, not emotional fear, just purely physical terror. The terrible anticipation of knowing you would keep being hurt without an end in sight.

I let my eyelids flicker shut, shielding my eyes from at least a tiny portion of the field's influence. I distanced myself from the pain, from my physical form. Meditation without the Force was strange, meditation while in constant unpredictable fluctuations of unbearable torment quickly proved impossible. But however futile, the trying provided something to distract my mind. Helped keep me from imagining what might come next.

"I see you've finally chosen to return to us, Revan," Kareth said. "I must admit, I was not expecting you to deliberately torture yourself into unconsciousness merely to avoid answering a few simple questions. What strength of will that must have taken. And I thought you could no longer surprise me."

"You will die for this," I said, my voice breaking. "For what you have done to me, for what you have done to my friends."

"Friends, is it? My, my, and here I thought Lord Revan may have finally risen above such petty relationships. I am most gratified to find that my demonstration was effective. But, you should know, among the Sith I am considered merciful in my methods. It really would be in your best interests to give in _before_ Lord Malak returns."

 _Merciful?_

Malak had really gotten out of hand. How could I ever have been friends with someone against whom Kareth was ranked as merciful?

"You will die for this," I rasped. I was only semi-conscious, I could tell by the way the pain started receding into a dull blur, the way my limbs reacted sluggishly to my commands. I didn't have the strength to shout defiance, my defiance was a subdued thing now.

I was done talking. I was done cooperating. I was done threatening. Only one thing remained to me, seared into my mind where no amount of torture could overwrite it.

Saul Kareth was a dead man. I was only lacking a few crucial steps in between now and then.

I felt my grasp on consciousness failing again.

 _He shouldn't have left these turned up so high,_ I thought, and fell back into the dark. At least there the pain blurred together into a predictable burning constant.

* * *

" _There is one thing I could offer," I whispered. "One thing your master might might accept."_

 _He shifted his glance to me, still seemingly preoccupied. "And what might that be, little padawan?"_

 _I laughed, the sound seeming unreal even to myself. Broken and desperate, cracked and manic. Power vibrated through me, carried on waves of agony. I could draw it into myself, ready-made, but didn't know what to do with it._

" _This is my choice to make," I said at last, though I heard only the faintest memory of dignity in my voice. "And I choose strength."_

 _There was regret, but not enough to stop me._

* * *

When I woke next, Kareth was gone.

So was Bastila.

"Try not to move too quickly," Juhani said softly. "The fields were left active a long time, even while you were unconscious."

Everything hurt, though I could move without the pain being unbearable. I was lying on the ground, no longer held limply upright in the static suspension of the torture field. It took long moments to actually convince myself that these new facts were true in reality, and not simply as an hallucination or dream.

But though every movement felt like a strain, it was a different discomfort. Not agony, merely pain. Not something I could easily ignore, but no longer demanding every little piece of my attention in order to tear it to shreds and burn the remains and then do it again and again.

My mouth was dry and my throat ached. I wondered briefly if I'd been screaming while passed out. Was that something that happened?

"Bastila?" I asked, trying to see her, trying to _feel_ her. Her mind had fled from mine, somewhere amid the darkness and the pain, and her soul felt distant and remote. Nameless dread suffused me, something slipping away from me while I was unconscious, something I couldn't clearly recall.

"She's being held somewhere else," Bindo said. His own voice was rough, but on the whole he sounded considerably better than I felt. I squinted over at him suspiciously. "Don't look that way, I'm an old man. They wouldn't want to _kill_ me, in case I knew anything of value, so they had to go easy on me. Heh."

I got a considerable feeling of amusement from him, but he still looked haggard and worn. The torture hadn't left him _completely_ untouched, even if he had spent the entire time unconscious. Canderous stood watching the door, his repeater held ready.

I felt Juhani's warm comforting energy folding around me, Force mending and soothing as it wrapped close around me. It soothed my physical hurts, but did nothing for my increasing desperation.

 _Bastila! Where are you?_

My mental shout went unanswered. "Where's Bastila?" I asked again, my voice still hoarse and weak.

"They moved her," Canderous replied. "Other side of the ship, surrounded by Malak's Jedi. That's why we came now, they were starting to move from this questioning holding to someplace better guarded. We wouldn't have a chance taking them without you."

"T3 rerouted some guards' instructions to clear a path for us," Juhani added, "but we don't know how long it will be before they notice."

She reached out and helped me to my feet. I stumbled and nearly fell, but Juhani's arms held me steady and I regained my focus and balance. Though my pains had been healed and soothed, my whole body still ached and felt tight with that unconscious fear that simple knowledge is insufficient to relax. It would only fade with time, but I couldn't afford to wait for it.

I stood for a few minutes, breathing heavily, then nodded to Juhani and she released me. I turned to survey Bindo and Canderous.

The old Jedi, somehow managing to look stuffy and dignified after being stripped to his undergarments and tortured for who knew how long, was standing with his hands pressed together in careful meditation, the Force fairly glowing around him. Canderous kept his eyes moving, shifting his weight constantly as he moved minutely, keeping our surroundings in complete awareness. The consummate soldier.

"We need to get Bastila out," I said firmly. "That's our highest priority. What progress have you made toward allowing us to escape after that?"

"We've disabled or sabotaged all backup power systems for the external weaponry and tractor beams, but the main generators are too heavily guarded to take out by stealth."

I nodded. "Good, that's a start. Order them to get to the Ebon Hawk and hide. We'll finish the job and meet them there. Once we make our move, things will not be safe for cautious or slow movements."

I closed my eyes, focusing on what I know about this class of ship. "The easiest way to disable the systems we don't want active and lock out further changes is from the bridge's master control console. If we can destroy it after, that will also prevent easy unlocking. They'd have to reroute systems, and if we take out Kareth at the same time. . . I doubt they have anyone else with that level of authority easily to hand. And with backup power offline, they won't even be able to use maintenance overrides."

Juhani nodded and spoke softly into her comlink. "Mission, T3, pull out as soon as it's safe. Reconvene at the _Ebon Hawk_ as quickly as possible. We'll be coming in hot, be ready to leave."

They didn't acknowledge, but I didn't worry about that. T3 was pretending to have been mind wiped and cooperative, while Mission may be sneaking about anywhere and talking aloud would certainly be a poor tactical decision in any event. I'd have to assume they were capable of extracting themselves. Right now, the only thing I cared about was Bastila.

Something blocked her from my mental touch. While I could still sense our bond, it didn't point toward her like it usually did. It didn't radiate her thoughts and emotions toward me, despite our relatively close distance. I'd had a stronger sense of her from the space above Taris than I did now.

The whole ship felt strange, oddly visible and invisible to my senses at once. Twisted around itself, into nothingness and reality, alive and dead and never-alive all at the same time. It was faintly nauseating to concentrate on.

I felt it laughing at me even as it screamed and pleaded for help, and it was only an inanimate object with no feelings. Yet I still sensed it, all around me, yearning and hating and dying; dying dying dying alone in emptiness. Despair threatened to overwhelm me as I understood. _Everyone_ was dying alone in emptiness, though they tried to deny it. I was dying, Bastila was dying, everyone I tried so hard to save was dying, and nothing I did would ever change that. Nothing could ever stop that. The Force itself was powerless in the face of emptiness and death.

"REVAN!" Juhani shouted, and I felt an impact with my chest. I stumbled and nearly fell over, compensated and caught myself on one knee and one hand.

"Are you alright?" Juhani demanded. "What happened?"

"I'm fine," I said, frowning as I stood. "Why, what did you think happened?"

She shook her head. "The Force was drawing away from you, I could barely sense your life at all. You just stood there, staring ahead like nothing in the world could wake you. You didn't reply when we spoke."

"You didn't say anything until you screamed my name," I said defencively.

"You stood there for minutes," Canderous replied, his voice tense. "We've been trying to wake you the whole time."

Well. _That_ was most assuredly not normal.

"Sorry, I'll do my best to remain present for the remainder of our mission here," I said. The ship screamed at me, its voice silent, its echoes faint. A memory flickered through my mind, unconnected to surrounding events. The same feeling, of emptiness that consumed, but could be felt. Who or what had caused it, I couldn't say.

I thought it was a gift, but nothing I could remember helped to clarify the situation, and I snapped myself back to attention before I could be sucked into that void again.

"Do you know the layout to reach where Bastila is being held?" I asked.

"Mission was watching the cameras, it's. . . eight corridors that way, then two to the right. No, left coming from this direction."

Not very reassuring directions, but I had to go with it. We were running out of time. I could sense nothing outside the ship, but a quiet voice chanted in the back of my mind _Malak will be coming, he'll want to gloat in person, run now._

But I couldn't run. Not yet. Not without my second sister.

I started down the hall in the direction Juhani had pointed.

"Wait," called Bindo. "Where do you think you're going, young lady?"

"To save Bastila before it's too late," I answered, not pausing in my determined stride. The aches of captivity were all but forgotten, I had no time and would let nothing stop me.

"In your underwear?" he called after me. "Weaponless? Against a half-dozen dark Jedi trained to capture and subdue Force wielders?"

"Yes," I replied, uninterested in discussing my decisions with anyone. Fury rose within me as I contemplated what Kareth could be doing to _my Bastila_ even now. He had showed me quite clearly that he had no hesitation about hurting anyone, and now he'd taken her off into the heart of Malak's dark cadre of followers.

So, yes. I would take them all on unarmed and in my underwear if that's what it took. I had no time to search for my clothing or equipment. The Force wrapped around me, flowed through me, _burned_ through me with that heat of glorious power that leaves you cold in its wake.

I seized it, pulled myself farther into its welcoming embrace. Lightning glowed around me in a glorious corona, surging around me in time with my determined focus. No power would be too much. No sacrifice would be too great.

Nothing would stop me.

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

 _I'm still not completely happy with this chapter, but I've been hung up on it for long enough that at this point I'm just glad it worked at all. My computer is still dead, but since I have internet at work and all my documents on gdrive I'm still able to write submit chapters. Updates should continue as scheduled, but don't panic if I'm slow/late sometimes. Thanks for reading!  
_


	47. Leviathan: Part 3

I broke into a run, the Force pulsing through me like a second heartbeat, racing even beyond my own.

Six corridors, seven.

 _I'm coming, I'm coming. I won't let them hurt you any more._

She didn't hear me, or if she did I felt not even the faintest echo of a response.

Eight. Turn left.

One. Two.

The door was sealed, a warning sign declaring 'This is the domain of the great and powerful _list of important people, I don't care'_ and not to disturb them or risk a slow and painful death. I flung out a hand, slammed Force into it with enough strength to put a sizable dent in the reinforced durasteel.

I screamed, brought my other hand around and flared out at it with all the power I could contain and more. The door crumpled, just enough that it no longer fit its tracks seamlessly, and those gaps were enough. It came loose and flew forward, flattening the man behind it into the far wall with a thunderous crash, leaving a bloody depression in the wall.

Five crimson lightsabers ignited in the dimly lit room.

"Capture her!" shouted a voice, arrogant, obviously well-suited to command and well-accustomed to being obeyed.

I pushed out both hands, a wave of energy smashing into them and throwing them off balance. Two knew how to absorb the kinetic blast, braced and remained firm. The other three stumbled back. One lost his feeble attempt to block me entirely and fell backwards, his lightsaber deactivating as he lost focus.

"I am Lord Revan," I declared. "Bow before me now, or die."

None of them bowed. Three of them charged. The one on the floor reignited his saber and leapt to his feet. The last held his ground, Force building around him as he moved to support those attacking me.

So be it.

The Force flowed in tight rhythm between them. Trust, mutual strength, understanding. They'd trained together, fought together, for long enough that their confidence radiated strongly. A single unarmed opponent, however strong in the Force, shouldn't be enough to threaten them. As long as they were cautious and worked together, they couldn't lose.

They were wrong.

The lighting surrounding me flared out, forking and splitting to target them each in turn. The two farthest from me brought their lightsabers up quickly enough to block and absorb the attack, while the nearer three were struck fully with the electric force of my fury.

One screamed, dropped his lightsaber and fell twitching to the floor. The others were better at controlling their reactions, and continued their charge. My lightning flickered and danced, sparking out at them as they neared, but without a weapon of my own I was still forced to duck away from the attacks. This gave time for the more distant opponents to recover, and I felt their Force connections strengthening, reconnecting them as they moved smoothly to surround me.

 _No._

I yelled wordlessly, defiance and hatred and boundless protective love surging and echoing as I reshaped the Force energy that surrounded me.

The lightning flickered and vanished as the energy supporting it drew inward, then exploded out in an unbroken wave. Electric and kinetic, the wave of power slammed into them all. And this time, no one was fast enough or strong enough to block or absorb it.

I pulled inward, utilizing the same wave of energy, drew their weapons back toward me, but maintained the push at the same time, pinning them against the outer walls of the training room. I'd never done anything like it before, wasn't even trying anything specific. Just _doing_.

The oldest and strongest of them, the one who had kept his distance to support the others instead of engaging me, was the only one to keep a grip on his lightsaber. Five weapons clattered to the floor around me. Lightning resumed its rightful place, cloaking me in its warm crackling embrace.

"Tell me where Bastila is," I demanded. "The first to lead me to her will be forgiven his foolishness and allowed to live."

They pulled on their weapons with the Force, and I held them just as strongly. One began to inch across the floor toward its master, the others remained firmly fixed to the ground beside me. I leaned down and picked up the moving hilt, ignited it in the same smooth motion as I straightened.

"You wish to be the first to die?" I asked, aiming the blade at its owner. He didn't reply, but I felt his continued pull on the weapon. Thankfully, they seemed focused on their own individual aims; some trying to free themselves, others pulling on their weapons or channeling aggressive Force toward me. I deflected or caught those with the lightsaber I held.

"Where is Bastila?" I snarled.

"We will not betray our master," hissed one of the younger and balder dark Jedi, struggling to free himself from my maintained push.

If they'd all moved together, I could never have held them. I'm strong, but they certainly weren't weak. They were in an unfamiliar situation and each reacting to it alone, used to solving their own problems, not trying to act as a team now their usual rhythm was broken.

Still, the strain was beginning to reach me, my initial furious burst of energy waning. I lashed out at him with a bolt of lightning, sending him convulsing back against the wall. I could manage distraction well enough, at least, if not complete subjugation.

I reached out, trying to sense her, straining to ignore the whispers of the ship that seemed ever more enticing as they echoed and shifted at the edge of my thought. They changed so quickly, so subtly, if I ignored them I might miss out on something important before it vanished forever.

No, I would not be drawn back into that trap. Whatever twisted mind had devised this ship, I would not be taken in by it a second time.

 _Bastila! Where are you?_

She didn't reply. I couldn't tell if she'd even heard me. The bond still felt the same, but it didn't lead toward her any longer. Just trailed into emptiness.

Was she unconscious? Had Kareth hurt her so much?

But I'd sensed her when she was unconscious before, or asleep, or neurally restrained. This was different, and it worried me.

Something had changed, something important that I just couldn't quite remember or grasp. Something lost within that blur of agony that I couldn't focus on without flinching away.

 _I am weak. I am broken. But that won't stop me. I will find you, no matter what they do or who tries to stop me._

"You don't have to fight us," a voice said calmly, echoing through my thoughts in time with the words. "You can surrender."

"I can surrender?" I repeated, incredulity and scorn warring for supremacy as my attention returned to the moment. "You fools can't resist me, can't stop me, can't even keep hold of your own weapons. I was a Jedi, I was a Sith, and I am now beyond them both. There is nothing you can do to threaten me."

They pushed. All at once, Force surged from every direction, breaking my sustained wave and smashing into me with enough strength that it knocked the breath right out of me, left me staggering and dazed for a moment.

Too long. The lightsabers zipped back to their owners' hands, and I suddenly stood in a ring of six crimson blades pointed at my chest.

"If you won't surrender," said the older man, "then we'll just recapture you the traditional way."

"No, you won't."

But my anger was a faint thing now, obligatory, the strength of defiance spent. I'd gone from focus to distraction, from attack to contemplation, and now I was too slow to switch back.

Fear and resignation wormed their way through the cracks in my mental strength, weariness and exhaustion and the echo of hours spent in endless torture weighed on me. Even the thought made my body tense; my stomach twisted, tears gathering in my eyes.

 _Weakness!_ I hissed the word mentally, tried to snap myself out of it, but I was so tired. I'd gone straight from the most wearying battle of my life, fighting with Bastila for our freedom, to being tortured, to trying this mad, desperate, foolish rush to save my second sister from our tormentors. I hadn't rested properly in so long.

 _You can surrender,_ the phantom voice of the dark Jedi still whispered in my mind. I could just give in, let them hurt me, let them _kill_ me if they wanted. What did any of it matter? I had failed, and there was nothing more I could do to help Bastila. Wherever she was, she'd have to survive on her own.

 _NO!_ I refute that mindset! Nothing is more important. Nothing is worth letting her down, leaving her alone.

Desperation may not be as reliable a source of strength as other emotions, but it _was_ powerful. It wouldn't last long. It might not be enough.

I pulled on their weapons again, and this time they were ready and held them tightly. Instead, they were pulled forward, off-balance yet again. Of course, with their weapons pointed straight at me, this brought their blades uncomfortably close. Within arm's length, instead of paces distant.

Three of them accepted the tug forward, used it as momentum to charge me. I leapt straight up, flipped once in the air just below the low ceiling, then redirected my fall toward the door farthest from where I'd entered. I couldn't defeat them all, not now, not in my weakened state when they could surround me and I was out of place. I needed to get to a corridor or smaller room, someplace I could be sure of my back and they couldn't easily surround me.

And where was Bastila?!

 ** _BASTILA!_**

My mental scream tore through the walls, through the dark Jedi, through the barriers and the confusion that surround us. Sheer desperation forced it along the wavering bond, through to where she waits in darkness and pain.

 _Leave me, Revan. This is my decision and you will not change it._

Her voice was hard, firm with determination. She was in agony, but clinging to it with all her strength and urging it on. I caught only the briefest flashes of her, only enough to sense that.

The dark Jedi surrounding me didn't wait for my mental communication to finish. They surrounded me more tightly, I could feel the heat of their saber blades as they held them close.

"Surrender, Revan," hissed the older enemy. My strength failed me completely. I didn't resist, let them guide me away, back into captivity.

In that moment, nothing mattered. Bastila was rejecting me. Choosing to stay a prisoner, and why. . .

 _Pain._ She'd discovered how to unlock her more aggressive Force abilities. Through pain. The one thing that I refused her, because I didn't want to hurt her. So she turned to Malak and Kareth, the people she knew would have no qualms about it.

And I knew it was what she wanted, but it still broke my heart. She was _mine_!

. . .but if she chose to leave me I couldn't force her to follow me. I _would not_ force her. If this was her decision, I had to respect it, even if I disagreed with it.

I was her master and guide, but I didn't own her.

 _I should resist, should reach for the Force and slaughter these fools._ But my rage was muted by sorrow, vengeance tempered by loss. My thoughts and feelings were an uninterpretable maelstrom, too chaotic to be channeled into anything of worth. Despair and resignation were empty emotions, unable to fuel anything.

 _I swore I wouldn't leave you,_ I whispered in my mind. _Why do you want to leave me?_

There was no reply. Only the swirling cacophony that was the ship, and for a moment I considered throwing myself into that. Let its chaos and my own merge together, become something cold and dead and unfeeling. I wanted no part in this any longer.

But then something flickered, a faint glimmer, a quiet sensation, and I remembered that Bastila was not my only sister, nor my only companion to be in danger.

Juhani needed me. Mission and Z and Canderous would be recaptured if I didn't move fast. Our mission to save Bastila was not going to succeed, so the only thing left to do was to get out while we still could.

If any of us escaped, that would have to be enough.

I stopped, finally cutting through the apathy to the solid core of determination that I had forgotten but never lost. Heat seared across my side as one of the dark Jedi holding his saber toward me failed to compensate for my sudden lack of movement, but I ignored the pain. What was this compared to losing Bastila? Nothing.

Unarmed, surrounded. Five lightsabers pointed at me. Within moments they'd realize I planned to fight and just kill me. Malak may want me alive, but there's only so much leeway one can hope for. When trying to subdue someone as dangerous as me, sometimes there's no way to do it safely.

I leaped straight in the air, pushing out and down, hoping to clear a space to land safely. But this time I didn't catch them unprepared. They all braced, absorbing or channeling Force energy around themselves, so the kinetic force parted and barely wobbled them.

I pulled myself along the ceiling, adding horizontal movement as my jump peaked and I began to fall. They followed, two jumping to flank me in the air, the other three staying just ahead of and below me.

I turned, lashed out with lightning, but it was feeble and ineffective. Even if they hadn't been quick enough to intercept with their lightsabers, it would hardly have hurt them, much less stopped them.

That resigned despair lurked just below the surface, weakening and tainting everything I did or thought. It echoed and resonated within the unnatural walls of the ship, always strengthening itself, never fading away.

Red light glowed behind me, below me, ahead of me.

 _No._

I twisted in midair, shifting my trajectory sharply downward and back. I ducked below the two dark Jedi in the air, slid between them and the other three farther ahead, and landed running. I didn't know where we were, it didn't matter. I pulled every bit of strength I had into speed. Away, just away. I needed space, time to think, somewhere to recover. I needed to find Juhani and the others, finish our escape.

I didn't _need_ to destroy these enemies, they were just a distraction. Malak would be coming, I couldn't spare the time. And so I ran.

* * *

 _Author's Note:_ _I have changed the formatting of all chapters to include the ffnet default divider rather than my —=====— variety, and fixed a few typos._


	48. Leviathan: Part 4

I ran, but I didn't know the ship like they did. I dodged through corridors, turning and choosing directions at random to throw them off, but I wasn't fast enough to lose them completely. Sometimes I chose dead ends, backtracking barely quickly enough to evade their pursuit.

The strangeness of the ship weakened my connection to the Force, as did my emotional instability. My speed faltered, flickering and flaring as my resolve wavered and renewed itself.

I was lost, completely, unable to sense anyone familiar. The ship blocked and warped all my attempts to feel outward farther than a few corridors, and the _Leviathan_ was just as vast as its name implied.

I should have known these halls, should have recognized the layout from when Lord Revan was ruler of the Sith and this ship would have been just another in my fleet. I did not. Memories of my former life remained patchy, even with my full acceptance of the truth. Sometimes, I'd feel like events from then were recent and clear, but most of the time it remained out of reach.

The Jedi had much to answer for.

 _Not now_ , I chided myself. I had to focus on escaping before Malak arrived. In my current state, he'd find me easy prey indeed. And once he'd defeated me, publicly and with clear finality, I'd be back in a torture cage or worse. This time without hope of rescue.

 _Run._

I turned a corner, and they were waiting for me. Three dark Jedi, with a dozen troopers in support. Behind me, those in pursuit were approaching far too quickly for me to escape by backtracking to the nearest turning.

They'd outmaneuvered me. Too many of them, the ship was their home ground. I had every disadvantage. It was inevitable.

"You fools," I said, drawing myself up with as much firmness and arrogance as I could manage, "Once, I could have killed you all in a moment. Now, it may take a little longer. But you'll still be just as dead when I'm through."

"You've tried that several times," said one of those behind me. He laughed. "You talk like you're so powerful, but you're done. Everyone knows Malak beat you."

"No," I hissed, turning to face him. "Malak betrayed me and allowed the Jedi to defeat me for him. That's not true victory. He never dared to face me alone, and so the matter of my supremacy was never resolved."

"But _we_ defeated you, and he's our master."

"Did you really?" I force a laugh, the manic sound of it harsh in my ears. "You only managed to _corner_ me. Congratulations. You'll be able to die knowing I had no way to avoid killing you to get what I want."

A few of the younger soldiers in the new group shifted uncomfortably. I felt marginally stronger now, despite the disadvantaged situation. More focused. The energy of their presence, the adrenaline of my run.

I pressed my advantage, my voice gaining strength. "I may have lost my influence and position, I may no longer have followers and fleets at my command, but my personal power is still greater than any other Jedi or Sith who came before."

"We should just kill her," hissed one of the younger dark Jedi. "Lord Malak offered a great reward for whoever destroyed her, maybe—"

"No, you fool," another replied. "If we kill her after his admiral informed him we have her prisoner, who do you think will suffer for it?"

"But it will be far worse if she escapes."

They discussed, but I stopped listening. Instead I focused on the whole group, the dark Jedi, the soldiers supporting them. I felt quiet fear and bravado, determination and arrogant strength, confidence, uncertainty, eagerness, hatred. All different emotions and impetus, each individual a separate entity in the Force. Glowing and burning with their own fire.

And each connected to everything and everyone else.

I drew on those connections, pulled it in and rebuilt myself with the strength of the universe. This was not physical healing, not mental soothing, but something deeper. Just myself and the Force, bound together stronger and stronger, reaching out through myself to each of my enemies and drawing them in as well.

Only the oldest of the dark Jedi was attuned enough to notice what I was doing. He tried immediately to counter with an unsettling wave of Force, but whatever his intent it failed to affect me. Emotional, probably. I was very glad that I managed to visit Nar Shaddaa _before_ we were captured. Even if it was probably _because_ of our stop there that we were discovered.

"Stop her," he hissed, pushing at me with a weak burst of lightning. Another began at his command to pull on my own personal energy, disrupting and weakening. I felt the sharp dip in my strength as it transferred easily to him across the connection I'd built.

Too little, too late.

I raised my hand, pulling on the collective strength of them all, and the individual life force of them each. Drawing it into myself, subjugating it to my own will.

Two of the dark Jedi blocked with their own defences, barely. The soldiers only had time to scream or gasp as their life energy was sucked away, drawn into me. The other Force-adepts went rigid, struggling to hold onto their own strength, but I was stronger. They collapsed without making another move.

I pulled two of the lightsabers to my hands and ignited them in the same movement as I whirled to face the two survivors.

One against two. I grinned at them, armed and nearly vibrating with the power of Force energy gathered tightly into myself. I liked these odds much better.

"I am Lord Revan," I hissed, "and you will die."

I raised my hand again and yanked hard on the connections I'd just quested out between us, but their protections held. Only just, but that was enough. They charged, Force rippling around us, and I was forced to give ground.

Weariness and power warred within me, but the certainty of victory was strong enough to keep me focused. I would not give up now, not when I was so close to freedom.

How dare they stand in my way? How could they imagine I wouldn't repay them for this insult? I was not Malak, to stand about and rage against his followers, but neither was I one who would allow myself to be taken advantage of.

I couldn't remember ever having a harder time summoning the emotional strength and fire to focus my internal energy into lightning. Usually it sprung up at the slightest provocation, but this time it took long seconds to appear. Seconds in which I backed down the corridor, blocking and dodging as lightsabers blurred and clashed. Red on red, red on red, the flashing lights and burning blades hissing against the walls and floor, casting shadows that jumped crazily in the dim lighting.

They pulled their companions' remaining blades to them, used them to throw at me with guided Force. My retreat became uneven, punctuated with periods of turning to run, or moments where I feigned a charge to slow them down.

 _Lightning, lightning. . . come on._

I didn't have the focus to even hate them properly, I just felt bad for them. Fools, following Malak's idiotic orders regardless of their own obvious lack of capacity in carrying them out. Facing me was like walking to their death without protest, without hesitation. I wished they would stand aside, just leave me be. We didn't have to be enemies, didn't have to waste this time and strength in pointless battle.

I couldn't afford to think that way! They were enemies, I needed to destroy them quickly and with finality. Where had my focus gone? Why was I so weak now?

 _Bastila doesn't want me any longer._ The remembered strength of that realization shattered my lack of concentration, sharpened my splintered focus into laser-sharp intent.

She _left_ me. She chose _Malak_ over me. She betrayed everything I ever offered, everything I ever wanted, everything I ever entrusted to her. There is _no one_ I cared so much for, no one I would have sacrificed so much for! There was nothing possible in the world that could hurt me more than that. Of _course_ I stopped caring about anything as meaningless as a battle with Malak's weakling followers!

But that didn't mean I'd forgive them.

Rage enveloped me completely, fury at Bastila for leaving, at myself for driving her away, at these vile and loathsome creatures who would dare stand in my way and try to hurt me.

Beyond exhaustion, beyond thought, Force flowed through me in icy fire. Power crackled around me in a vibrant halo of lightning. I pushed out and held the attack, let it flare in all directions. I fell to my knees, eyes closed and hands out to either side maintaining the lightning, as the remaining assailants screamed and fell around me. The sheer weight of my attack prevented them from reaching me, and their feeble shields were utterly insufficient to block a Force assault of such magnitude.

They died without ever getting close.

Then I swayed unsteadily, the burst of energy leaving me spent, and collapsed into the waiting emptiness.

* * *

 _Did anything even matter any more? I went on alone so long, forgotten. . . surely everything had fallen apart beyond repair, beyond replacement by now._

 _I didn't have to care, even with that quiet pull echoing once again from the emptiness. She left me, sent me away._

 _What did I owe Revan now?_

* * *

"Revan, wake up!"

Juhani's voice was urgent, insistent. I didn't want to move, wanted her to stop and go away. I needed rest, needed so badly to just _sleep_ and recover. I was so weary. So worn. Spent, emotionally and physically. I just wanted to sleep for a week, then come back to the problem with fresh strength.

But that was not an option.

"Revan! Malak's shuttle is almost here, we have to go now!"

Malak. I could kill him now if I were stronger, not so tired. I could end this whole thing right here. I could blow up the Leviathan and him along with it.

But that would kill Bastila too. And that's one thing I couldn't bring myself to do, not now, perhaps not ever. I tried to imagine her living happily as Malak's subservient, and my mind was unable to form the image. My Bastila would not be happy here, but I owed her the right to discover that for herself. If ever she grew tired of Malak, I would always welcome her back. But for now. . .

"Revan!"

I sighed, reluctantly opened my eyes and sat up. The effort felt like trying to lift a dreadnought, but I managed. Juhani took my hand and helped me to my feet.

"Mission and Z, T3?" I asked.

"Already on the _Ebon Hawk_ , ready to go," Juhani replied. "Jolee is heading there now."

Canderous stood at the end of the corridor, keeping watch.

"We need to get to the bridge," I said.

"We're getting Bastila out first, right?" Juhani asked, gesturing. "You already took out the dark Jedi, and we found our gear."

She passed me my own lightsabers and I grasped them tightly, clinging to them like a lifeline. Their smooth, familiar weight was more comforting than anything else could have been. But not enough to blunt the fresh wave of emotion that Juhani's casual words had triggered.

"She's not coming," I whispered. "She's chosen to stay here."

"What?!" Juhani stood rigid, her face tightened grimly. "Why would you think that?"

"She told me," I replied, my words sounding flat. "She's staying, so Malak can teach her what I would not."

"Malak wants her _dead_ ," Juhani protested. "She can't really have—"

I was still unable to put any strength in my voice. "She will be welcomed, broken, and twisted into something loyal to Malak. But she made this decision. Knowing it would be dark and painful, she still chose it."

 _Why, why why why, my Bastila, why?_

"No," Juhani declared firmly. "No, I won't accept it. She belongs with _us_. With you, with me. We are stronger together."

 _weaker apart_

It felt like so long ago, so far away, that moment when I'd first realized the depth of the connection between Bastila and myself. Even with some pieces of my former life restored, it still felt like I'd begun to exist the moment I awakened on the _Endar Spire_. Everything before that was fragments. My friendship with Malak, my partnership with X, decisions made, strategies carried out. . . all of it paled in comparison to the bright, undimmed, unbreakable connection I felt for Bastila. And the pride in Juhani and how far she'd come with me. Even the antagonistic friendship with Onasi, before he fled.

I was crying, and I didn't care. Silent tears, but I didn't bow my head or turn away to hide them.

"Revan, there is no time. We must get Bastila and—"

"No," I said, emotion finally reaching my words, breaking them. "We have to leave her, it's the only way."

I took a deep breath, steadying myself because there was no other choice. "There's no time now. We have to get to the bridge, disable the tractor beams and release the _Ebon Hawk_ before Malak arrives. At least if we can get away, Bastila will have someone to come back _to_ , once she's learned everything Malak can teach her."

"You believe she'll come back?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation. "She is the strongest, most stubborn, and most ambitious Jedi I've ever met. She will outgrow Malak, as— as she's outgrown me. . . at least for now. I will grow stronger, and she will see that my strength is all that is left for her to grasp, and she will return."

I didn't know if my analysis of her motives was even close to accurate. Parts of it felt right, other parts seemed flimsy even to me. But it was all I had, and I _must_ convince Juhani to flee with me or everything would be lost.

I would not lose them both to Bastila's choice. Juhani had so much more to learn, she was just beginning to step beyond her rigid Jedi ways. She needed to be coaxed gently, or she would fall too far into her aggression as she had once before, but this time I doubted anything could bring her back. Malak would be able to reshape Bastila, but Juhani he would destroy.

I had to be strong, even though in that moment I wanted nothing more than to stop caring about anything and just lie down to rest until my fool of a former apprentice came to kill me in my sleep. At least then I wouldn't have to bear this pain.

But I couldn't abandon Juhani. I couldn't leave Sasha to slowly starve until she was forced to come out and Malak caught her, just a child, and broke her too into something he could use. I couldn't let Mission be imprisoned, Z enslaved, Bindo and Canderous executed, T3 reprogrammed. Even if Bastila's abandonment burned like nothing I had ever experienced before—

 _something vague and faded_

 _tearing ripping destroying_

 _shredded and left in tatters, screaming in loneliness and emptiness_

 _betrayed_

 _abandoned_

 _and echoes, echoes, echoes of what was lost, fading but never vanishing_

—even if I had to remind myself every moment that there was something else worth living for, I had to go on. Whatever the cost, whatever the torment, there was still purpose.

I followed Canderous as he led us toward the bridge, away from Bastila, toward Kareth and our one hope of escape. A last, desperate hope, unlikely to succeed on time. The only chance we had.

Even in weakness, even in near-defeat, I just had to keep fighting. Once more, every time, just once more.


	49. Leviathan: Part 5

There were more dark Jedi on the bridge. I sensed them only as we neared the door, their power concealed by the twisted warping of the ship itself.

Whatever had forged _Leviathan_ had done so with rigid control, pounding Force into shape and binding it there, just as it had forged the durasteel.

And the Force did not like being bound into the shape of steel. It still screamed to me, called out, pleaded, mocked and taunted, lived and died. The ship was anything and everything, all life's thoughts and desires and hopes and fears, dominated and enslaved somehow within the metal of its walls and floors and hull.

 _Leviathan_ was a living abomination, yet unless I concentrated the cacophony was so faint as to be almost indistinct. Only when trying to reach out, to sense through the walls to others beyond, did the chaos threaten to overwhelm me, draw my mind into its tortured endless depths and never release me.

I ignited my lightsabers, red and purple flaring to life. Juhani activated her own, the blue light harmonizing.

Bastila's yellow felt so sharply absent then. Red, blue, purple. . . and nothing else. No golden glow shining alongside us.

Juhani and me, with Canderous as backup. This was our grand assualt? We were doomed, but there was no way back and no other way forward.

 _Fight, once more._

"Be careful not to destroy the control console," I whispered. "We have to deactivate the tractor beam first."

Juhani nodded. Canderous gave a grunt of assent.

I took a step forward, activated the door control. It slid open smoothly, with hardly a sound.

Three dark Jedi waited for us, already interlinked with Force woven between them, crimson blades glowing in readiness. A master and his two apprentices, if I had to guess.

Kareth stood by the controls at the far end of the bridge, speaking into his com. He didn't seem bothered in the least by our intrusion, didn't even glance up at us.

Troopers stood about at their guard posts and they responded the fastest, opening fire on us almost as soon as we were visible through the opening.

Juhani and I wove between the bolts, deflecting them away from Canderous as he took aim from behind us. The deep rapid fire of his repeater joined the higher sounds of the troopers' weapons, and woven smoothly through it all was the thrum and sizzle of lightsabers in motion.

The dark Jedi moved to attack, hoping to distract us before their support soldiers were taken down, but Canderous was an exceptionally good shot.

Weakness and pain temporarily retreated as I drew deeply upon the Force. Weak and distant though it seemed - here in space so far from any planet's life, echoing trapped within this ship that screamed its own despair - it was enough.

Though I felt that I moved sluggishly and unsteadily, everything around me flowed slower as well as the Force sped my actions well beyond usual limits. I turned, blocked the lightsaber of one dark apprentice, pushed back with a kinetic blast, spun away to catch the crackle of incoming lightning against my offhand saber. Juhani moved well, but more slowly, and we were not in sync. She stayed on one side of the room, I on the other, so we didn't trip each other up.

I missed Bastila more than ever. Missed her standing beside me, missed her fighting style. We complemented each other so well.

I forced my sorrow to shift, twisted my thoughts of absence into instead imagining what Malak would do to her once he arrived, and the pain retreated behind a wall of undiluted fury. Every spark of Force I held instantly liquefied into pure lightning and burst out from me in an expanding sphere.

Every enemy in the room was thrown back, crushed against whatever walls or windows or support pillars lay behind them. The storm circled around me, around the bridge, crackling from one target to the next so quickly it almost seemed a solid beam of lightning that connected them all. The crackling hiss of electicity drowned out all other sounds, echoing to fill the bridge.

I didn't notice I was screaming until the fury abated, the troopers and dark Jedi falling to the floor. The dark master had survived, easily absorbing the worst of my electric attack and enduring the kinetic force that accompanied it. Kareth had survived, but only by virtue of being the farthest from me, shielded by distance. He had been blasted back, lay on the ground twitching, but was quite obviously alive.

The others had not boded so well, and I was impressed despite myself. This was the second time in recent hours I'd been able to do something unexpectedly powerful, but it gave me an uneasy feeling as well. Something about the ship seemed to amplify my aggressive powers even as it felt like a damper on the Force entirely.

It was unnatural, wrong. Not something to be relied upon.

But I didn't have to rely on something to use it. I reached with the Force and grabbed Kareth by the throat, lifted him into the air from where I stood near the door. I didn't choke his breath completely, left him able to struggle and gasp and convulse and get just enough air to survive. My power may be weakened, but the sight of him kept my fury hot and my rage unbounded.

"Check the console," Canderous ordered, and Juhani rushed toward it.

"It's still active," she said, tapping in orders on the holographic interface. "Shields are down. . . tractor beams offline. . . and weapons disabled."

She locked the console, then smashed it with her lightsaber.

"They'll rush to fix the backups," she reported. "We should hurry."

"The bridge corridor has an elevator straight to the hangar level," Canderous said.

Kareth gasped and struggled feebly, thrashing in panic and rage of his own. I held him, vindictive pleasure so strong I was sure it would never fade. I could do this for days, and know he deserved every second of it.

"Revan, come on!" Juhani called. She and Canderous stood right by the door, ready to leave.

I didn't care. This man was responsible for _everything_ that had happened, every hurt I'd taken, every moment of my own suffering.

He was the one who took Bastila from me, who showed her his dark path of pain and possibility.

He would not die until I was _satisfied!_

"Revan, we don't have much time, Malak's shuttle could be docking any moment! He was transmitting docking coordinates when we arrived. There's _no time for this!_ "

"Go," I said, unable to keep the sharpness from my tone. I was nothing but focused vengeance. Escape was the last thing on my mind.

 ** _COME WITH ME!_**

Juhani's voice sounded in my mind, so loudly and unexpectedly that it broke my single-minded focus. I turned, surprised and pleased at this evidence of our connection strengthening. Kareth crumpled to the floor behind me, gasping for air.

I smiled at Juhani, though fury still held my heart. "Thank you," I whispered, then turned and seized Kareth around the chest with the Force, dragging him after me like a tethered beast. "I'll finish this when we're safely away," I promised, smiling darkly at the man who personified everything I despised in the galaxy. "Or, at least, continue."

Then we ran, Juhani and Canderous and I, my captive bouncing and thumping behind us. It wasn't a gentle way to travel, but I considered it only a kindness that he wasn't being deliberately thrown about even more violently.

He deserved far worse. Deserved everything I could imagine and more. And he would not escape his just punishment. I would keep him as long as Malak held Bastila, and whatever my former apprentice did to her, I would mirror a hundred fold on Kareth until I was strong enough to reclaim what was mine and destroy any who stood in my way.

Every moment of every day, he would regret what he had done and who he had become in order to do it, for I would see to it that he understood exactly what it felt like to be the one on the receiving end of endless torment.

Alas that he had no one dear to him that I could tear away from him, no one he cared about that I could break in front of him. No one I could slowly make worship me, until they hated him as much as I did.

Lightning crackled around me, sure and strong. My powerfully focused intent was sufficient to fuel my customary power, even though I was physically exhausted beyond all endurance, my soul's strength lost, my heart broken.

This one thread kept me together, held my fragile pieces in one harsh unbending core.

Vengeance _would_ be mine.

We fled, following instructions T3 relayed to Canderous, hurrying down halls and turning corners, breaking through rooms when the halls were too long, cutting through walls when the rooms wouldn't suffice.

We ran, and I knew with each step that it wouldn't be enough. We weren't fast enough, weren't strong enough, didn't have enough _time_. I'd lost too much time in fighting to reach Bastila, lost too _much_ when I lost her.

Malak was coming, I knew it, could feel it in my heart even if I couldn't yet sense him through the Force; the strange warping effect of the ship around us made it impossible to detect anyone more than a few rooms away with any clarity. The force wasn't weakened or lost, but it was warped and changed —yet not truly changed.

I couldn't comprehend exactly what it was about _Leviathan_ that was so unsettling, but it was hardly the prime concern at the moment. I kept unconsciously reaching out to check on Bastila, and to search for Malak, only to mentally snag on the ship itself. Its strange dampening abilities, its unsettling non-life within the Force even as it felt so alive, it was _wrongness_ on a level I found simultaneously disturbing and mesmerizing.

I raced ahead, sometimes, fell behind at others. I kept Kareth close, pulled him after me; sometimes dragged along the floor, sometimes held aloft if I thought of him at all. He was a _thing to be carried_ , mentally relegated to luggage —and in his now-unconscious state it wasn't far from the truth. But still, I subconsciously tracked his injuries, shielding him from the worst impacts with the Force. I wouldn't be able to satisfactorily exact revenge on a man already dead, after all.

Something burned within me every time I thought of that, a gold-bright fire that raged in eagerness and anticipation, urging me onward. And I was so lost in grief and loss that it provided the sole focus to my existence.

I didn't even notice myself slipping farther and farther into that fire, allowing it to consume even my loss. Reasons no longer mattered, principles no longer applied. I was a creature of freedom and vengeance.

I stopped even trying to follow corridors, burning through walls with my lightsabers and ignoring my allies' attempts to guide me. It surprised me when I emerged into the open area beside the elevator to find they'd already reached it and were waiting there for me.

Juhani watched me with concern, Canderous maintained his soldier's air of readiness.

We descended to the hangar level with unbroken silence wrapped around us. Canderous again took the lead, and this time I followed. My flame wasn't quenched, but it had subsided enough for me to understand that it took longer to melt through walls than to walk through corridors. Not quite enough for me to realize my loss of purpose.

Then we turned a corner, and I felt Malak's presence _slam_ into my mind with the force of a blow.

I staggered, stumbled. Juhani turned to me, obviously worried.

"Malak," I gasped, the weight of his proximity muting my vengeful fire and leaving me unsteady and unfocused. I hated my weakness, hated that I had to deal with this _now_ when I had so little strength, hated that I could be so pathetic that even in this state Malak would easily overwhelm me.

I _should_ have been better than this.

I dropped Kareth in the hallway — he would only be a distraction — and unsteadily walked toward the door separating the hangars from the maintenance and storage areas through which we'd been traveling.

Malak's strength had always been the perfect complement to mine. He could resist Force powers and was an artisan with a lightsaber, while I was the one who could attack and manipulate with the Force. Not that he wasn't completely adept with Force powers, but my strength had always far surpassed his own. We were evenly matched; his superior defences against my superior attack, my adequate defences against his adequate attacks.

Which meant that with myself weak and exhausted, he would have a clear and unmistakable advantage.

I probably should have run, but I couldn't think of anywhere to _go._ The path behind us was empty, straight. If we could get _far_ enough away, the natural resonance of the ship should let us evade notice even through the Force, but we had no time to think and plan. If we ran right then, without thought or preparation, we may have escaped. Or we may have been cornered, trapped, and imprisoned once more, this time without ending.

I had to face him.

"There are side doors," I whispered. "Other airlocks through this area. Go around us, get to the ship. If I'm not there in fifteen minutes, or if it looks like you've been discovered, go."

"I will not leave you," Juhani insisted. "We already lost Bastila, I won't lose you too."

I pulled the unconscious Kareth closer. "Canderous, can you lock him up securely? If I reach you, I'll want to interrogate him. If not, you can do as you please with him. But I suspect I won't have time to bring him myself."

Malak was drawing nearer still, passing through the layers of airlock one by one

Canderous hoisted the unconscious man over his shoulder, nodded, and we split up. Juhani to the left, Canderous to the right, and myself straight on toward Malak.


	50. Leviathan: Part 6

I stepped forward, keyed in the door opening controls. And there he was. Malak, my old friend, my apprentice, my betrayer, my enemy. He stood just a few steps from me, expression impossible to read with half his face of unmoving metal.

I wanted to say something flippant, something casual, something that would assure him that I was no threat. But the only thing I could think while staring at him was how much I hated him. He betrayed me, tried to have me killed, and was too cowardly even to do it himself.

"I should never have let you study with me," I said. "If I'd been more discerning in my friendships, you wouldn't be here."

He laughed, a harsh metallic sound, but all the more chilling for how genuine it sounded beneath the artificial means of its creation.

"Revan, it's been too long. I'm impressed that you survived, and even more surprised that you escaped your new Jedi masters. They must have loved having you back. You always were their favourite."

"I hear you've just destroyed Dantooine," I said. "I hope you didn't ruin the library or star map."

Malak chuckled. "I don't know, I wasn't trying to aim for anything in particular. Much like Taris, you see."

 _Flame raining from the sky, durasteel screaming in protest as it was ripped apart, carefully designed skyscrapers and platforms in perfect stability wrenched apart as external forces destroyed their supports. People falling, dying, a world shattering. The endless cry of despair, echoing out through the Force, even though I didn't understand it at the time. The death of a world._

And that was all I needed. That spark of outrage, fury at the man - _creature_ \- who could do such things without a care, flared up within me and all exhaustion was forgotten. Not gone, I would still be weak, but unimportant next to the imperative of doing _something_.

My lightning came to me, surrounded me. My lightsabers were in my hand, blades glowing out into the dimness of the airlock.

"You cared for Taris?" Malak asked, his metallic voice carrying just a hint of mockery. "It was a vile, worthless, arrogant society of tiers and oppression and false pride."

"And it was _living_ and growing and could have _learned_." I retorted at once. "Instead you crushed it in its infancy, before it had a chance to grow to maturity and realize its true place in the galaxy."

"Taris was old and declining, decaying and falling to ruin. You were always sentimental, but now it's become your defining trait!" Malak sounded disgusted at the mere thought. "This is why I had to destroy you. You're far too weak to do what needs to be done. You would have made excuses for our enemies, protected worthless worlds when we had objectives to achieve, and allowed this conquest to drag into attrition for decades given your way."

"You're wrong," I said, pointing my purple lightsaber at his chest. "I don't make excuses for enemies. I destroy them. I simply do not share your especially broad definition of what makes a person an enemy. You seem to include _anyone near you_ as an obstacle, and thus, as an enemy."

Malak ignited his own lightsaber, the blade seeming to move unnaturally slowly as it grew to its full length. He didn't raise it, didn't gesture, just held it by his side. Its vibrant red glow seemed somehow to mock my own red blade, as though his were deeper and sharper and brighter all at once, my own offhand saber seeming pale and wan in comparison.

"I always regretted the necessity of destroying you from afar," he said. "This, blade to blade, face to face, is how we Sith are meant to determine supremacy. It is time for me to prove that I have truly surpassed my _master_ , and am the rightful ruler of the universe."

"Good luck with that," I said, lightning pulsing down my lightsaber and crackling around me. My breath was coming faster, anticipation for the coming fight pumped through my blood, readiness in every muscle.

It wouldn't last, and I had no intention of staying long enough for his greater strength to crush my already weakened defences. But I had to distract him long enough for Juhani and Canderous to reach the ship before I ran for it myself.

Malak strode forward, calm, measured steps. I danced away, circled around to the side. He flung out his off-hand, Force pushing out at me in a focused blast. I dodged, but it still pressed me back and spun me into the wall. I retaliated with lightning, which Malak caught easily. I took a step toward him, added my other hand and increased the electrical storm focused on him, but his protection remained as impenetrable as ever.

I took another step to the side, threw my red saber at him while maintaining a stream of lightning with my other hand, and he almost didn't dodge in time. The blade seared along his arm, scorching his protective suit but not quite penetrating. The angle was wrong, and the blade spun lazily back to me without my full attention on it.

I circled farther, and Malak charged. For a large man, he had the advantage of the Force and maneuverability, as well as his own weight and momentum. I brought both sabers up as if to block, held my ground by the wall until the last second.

The moment he was too close to correct course, I dodged away in a burst of Force speed, slapped the airlock control and dropped to slide under the door as it began opening. I pressed the other control to close, then slashed it with my saber to fuse the mechanism before he could reopen it from his side. Safe, at least for the moment.

I deactivated my sabers and ran. The door wouldn't hold him more than half a minute, and he would not be happy. I had to reach the _Ebon Hawk_ before he caught me, or I was dead. In my present state, I wouldn't have survived even another minute of combat, even if I'd continued fighting evasively and only in defence.

I paused twice to seal other doors behind me, but that slowed me too much and I quickly decided it wasn't worth the effort. I couldn't sense him behind me, the interference of the ship was too strong. That should mean he was still distant, but I didn't dare rely on that assumption. He could be anywhere.

I burst into hangar 23, and there she was. The _Ebon Hawk,_ engines idling in readiness, already aimed for the airshield that shimmered between us and open space.

I flipped on my com. "T3, I'm almost to you. Be ready, Malak's probably close behind me."

I reached the ramp, flung myself up it. "I'm in, close up and let's go!"

Canderous hurried over as I was leaning against a wall to catch my breath. He'd put Kareth somewhere, holding only his repeater, but he looked concerned.

"Where's Juhani?"

I tensed, realized suddenly that I couldn't sense her aboard. _At all._

"She didn't reach the ship when you did?" I asked, suddenly frantic. I ran to the nearest window, looked out at the empty hangar as we rose into the air and slid toward the exit. "No, no."

I reached within myself, felt for the fledgling bond between us, vibrating with tension, but otherwise unmoving. She was alive. . . but all I could hear from her was a vague fear.

"We have to go back," I whispered without thinking, but _no_ , Malak was there. We couldn't do anything for her. I was exhasuted, beyond weariness, I could barely stand. If I went back, it would only be to my own immediate defeat.

And I'd thought my heart couldn't be broken any more. It should have been inconsequential, after losing Bastila, what was one more loss?

But it wasn't. It was worse, in a way, because Bastila had at least _chosen_ to leave, and I could assure myself that even if she was wrong it was her decision to make. Juhani hadn't chosen to stay, hadn't wanted to be left behind.

And we flew away, out of _Leviathan_ 's hangar, into open space, leaving both my sisters behind at the mercy of monsters.

I couldn't handle it any more. I felt empty and lifeless as I slid, uncaring, down the wall to the floor. I'd sat in this same position, against this same wall, when Bastila and I fought side by side to defend ourselves from capture. Two days ago? A lifetime ago?

T3's stream of beeping and concerned buzzing continued. I ignored it. I reached out through my twin bonds, trying with every bit of my waning strength to connect to them. Either of them, both of them. . . but I only reached silence. We were too far away now, my strength unable to pierce _Leviathan_ 's walls to reach them.

 _I'll come back for you_ , I vowed silently. _I won't leave you to him a moment longer than I must._

I needed to be stronger. I needed to be harder and colder and faster. I needed to be _power_.

I stood, willed my body not to waver, and walked to the cockpit. Slowly, but steadily.

"Set course for Korriban," I commanded. "It's time we paid my academy a visit."

T3 beeped irritably and _very loudly_ , and I glanced up.

"Oh."

* * *

 _Leviathan_ was turning, moving behind us. Squads of fighters poured out into space, swarming toward us as T3 ran frantic evasions against the fighters that already dove at us from every angle. The sabotage we'd engaged in seemed to have been successful, as we hadn't been tractored back in or targeted by massive weaponry from _Leviathan_ itself, but the fighters would be able to bring down our shields easily enough and blast us from the sky. The _Ebon Hawk_ for all its upgrades remained a light freighter, not a battleship.

There was no way of guessing precisely where we were in the galaxy. T3 was trying to run location analysis necessary for hyperspace calculations while also keeping us away from the fighters, and I could hear the strain in his rapid beeping.

"I've got this," I said, slipping into the pilot's chair. I couldn't stand for long, but I could at least do this much."Focus on the location and hyperspace." He released the controls and I took over, pulling up the scans of our entire surrounds.

 _Leviathan_ was moving _away_ from the fight, pulling up and forward. Its fighters continued toward us, so I banked us in a tight turn and sent the _Ebon Hawk_ toward _Leviathan_ 's tail.

Then I understood. _Leviathan_ , with its disable tractors and sabotaged weapons, was currently positioned between us and _Domination_. Malak's personal interdictor, just as powerful as _Leviathan_ , and this without any damage or deactivated systems.

My heart skittered frantically, and I turned us sharply up. Just in time; a fighter chasing us powered down and slid sideways as it was snagged in _Domination_ 's tractor beam.

I turned us back toward the _Leviathan_ , racing along in its shadow, keeping it between us and _Domination_.

The fighters turned and came after us in a cloud, firing as they bore down on us.

Then we began firing back, blasting fighter after fighter out of the sky. Canderous and. . . who? But it didn't matter, my focus needed to be on flying.

We were too exposed out here.

Dipping the _Ebon Hawk_ into a dive, I brought us around close to the _Leviathan_ 's underbelly. Covered with more guns than any ship had a right to, all of them offline for at least the moment, I flew in close to the crippled ship and slowed, turning carefully and aiming the us back toward the ship. We were upside-down, from the perspective of _Leviathan_ , hovering just under it. The sith fighters came charging down under as well, racing toward us head on.

"Blast the turret installations now!" I yelled into the com.

The aim of our forward gunner shifted from the incoming fighters to the inactive cannons on _Leviathan_ 's side.

"How are those coordinates coming?" I asked T3.

He beeped a short _working_ sound, not sparing the power or attention to go into more detail. Every second he could devote to calculating would bring us that much closer to escape.

The turret exploded, scattering debris across the space in front of us. I eased us back, lined up another cannon. Another blast, this time catching two sith fighters and sending them spinning away.

Then a hum vibrated through the controls, and the _Ebon Hawk_ was forcibly pushed away. _Leviathan_ had recovered shields.

"T3!"

 _Working_ beep.

I turned us around, evaded the onrush of sith fighters, but we were taking constant fire now. The shields were above fifty percent, but only just, and dropping rapidly.

The edge of Malak's _Domination_ came into view and I turned us sharply, skittering back under _Leviathan_ to hide.

"T3?"

 _Working_ beep.

The _Leviathan_ turrets started powering up. Hissing in a breath, I had no choice. I abandoned the close cover offered by the larger ship, slipped between the sith fighters flowing toward us, and aimed for open space. I could only hope to reach a safe distance from _Domination_ before the Sith ships positioned themselves.

Our shields were barely holding against the fighters, if an interdictor got in even one or two hits we would be disabled. . . or obliterated. And _Domination_ had working tractor beams.

"T3!"

Fighters exploded behind us, Canderous and whoever was on the other gun doing their jobs well, but there were too many for them to hold off. More and more shots got through to the shields. We would start taking major damage any moment.

The Leviathan began to tilt, bringing its recovered guns back in line with us, even as it continued to slide forward. Still hoping to expose us to _Domination_ for capture, but content to destroy us if necessary. I couldn't dart around it, or risk being exposed to attacks or capture by Malak's ship. And I couldn't go in close again because of the shield.

"Kriff."

My energy was flagging, I'd gone far past any reasonable limits on strength and stamina, the weariness and exhaustion seeping relentlessly back into me. I was alone, both my sisters gone, my strength gone, and our advantages disappearing one by one. It was hopeless.

I could hardly summon the strength to carry on. It would be easy enough to give up, let them capture us. Reunite with Bastila and Juhani in captivity, let them break us or kill us slowly and terribly, but together. What did I care about the rest of the galaxy? What did it ever do for me? It couldn't protect itself, so what. Not my problem. Why should it be my problem?

But before this madness had taken hold of Bastila, before she ran into Malak's grasp willingly, she'd believed in me. In my plans. _She_ cared. That's why it was my problem, because it was _our_ problem. Saving the galaxy. Hopeless, but necessary. I hadn't come this far to give up.

I dragged the _Ebon Hawk_ around in a tight arc, giving us a broadside view of the two interdictors. _Leviathan_ had shields and weapons active now, but only a few guns were firing. Our sabotage must have been more effective than they could easily repair. _Domination_ edged around it, trying to move into position to get a clear shot at us.

Our shields were critical now, warning lights blared that only essential areas of the ship were covered. Fighter fire jolted into us, sending panels and external armoring pinging off and flying away.

There was nothing more I could do, in any event. Fight or surrender, fly or fall, our only real hope was to flee.

"T3?!"

Three seconds passed, long eternal seconds stretching on and on as I dodged fighters and turbolaser blasts, moving away erratically, as our shields flickered closer and closer to complete failure.

 _Done,_ T3 beeped at last, and relief flooded me. I felt the controls go dead under my hands as he overrode manual input; we turned sharply and faced out into space. One fighter remained in our path and we twisted past, blasting it into shards of metal, then the stars burned into lines and we shot away.

I collapsed against my seat, utterly spent. As the comforting blue haze of hyperspace surrounded our ship, my eyes closed without any conscious decision. I didn't fight the exhaustion, seeing no purpose in a facade of strength any longer. I needed rest desperately, and once I reached Korriban there would be no more time for weakness.


	51. Space Between

_Fear. Eagerness. Pain._

 _Something changed, I could feel it. Somewhere deep inside myself. The bright flame that freezes any who would abandon its warmth. It flickered, weak still, as years upon years of training fought against the emotions that would feed the heat within me._

 _I wanted this. Wanted it so badly it hurt every time the heat withdrew, each shiver of chill at its absence repudiated my every claim of strength._

 _I screamed, writhed against the pain, wished in my weakness that I'd never agreed to this, no, -asked- for this. But underneath the horror and disgust I still felt that flickering of warmth, the comforting strength that would slide away from me if I tried to grasp it, but grew stronger through my pain and anger and fear._

 _And deeper still, my heart stayed firm. I would take this power for myself, whatever the cost. Revan tried to show me, but was too afraid to go as far as I needed. I wasn't strong enough to simply choose her path unaided, and she refused to see that._

 _This pain, this relentless unending assault against my every belief and strength, this was what I needed. Malak's voice, taunting and teasing, tearing apart my faith in the Jedi way, even as he relentlessly seared the understanding and acceptance of my anger into me with relentless agony; -this- is what Revan couldn't have done. She would have talked, endlessly. Debated, cajoled, but never forced her truth on me._

 _Malak had no such restraint._

* * *

I woke in my own bunk, drenched in sweat, my heart already racing in near-panic. My connection to Bastila had returned to full strength sometime during the night. I knew instinctively that once again I could turn blindly and point toward her exact location, without error despite the lightyears between us.

But that did us no good, deep in hyperspace, moving farther and farther away from her. We were en route to Korriban, and while that was a Sith world it was not anywhere near where Malak held Bastila and Juhani.

Wherever they were had to be within six or so hours of where we'd been, but where we'd been was nowhere. T3 had the hardest time placing us during our escape from _Leviathan_ mostly because we were past the edge of commonly charted space.

They would be on the Star Forge's world, I felt certain. I could picture it so clearly, but we needed hyperspace coordinates and pathing, and that I did not remember. Only by finding Malak's great weapon would we find his innermost stronghold, where he would be most confident of his security and most assured of his unassailability, there we would find Bastila and Juhani. And, of course, Malak himself.

I would relish the moment of destroying him. Even if it relied completely on trickery and betrayal, even if it was a suicidal rush to destruction whose only end was our mutual death. Whatever the cost, I no longer cared. I would destroy Malak, because only then could I be secure. Only then could I reclaim what was mine.

 _Bastila is her own,_ I told myself. _She doesn't belong to me, she can choose to leave and not be forced to return._

The words felt empty and meaningless compared to the insistent tug within my soul. The certainty of where she was, the vibrant echo of her pain and torment as her deepest self was slowly and insidiously twisted into a new shape. I had to watch, couldn't look away, felt it echo through me every moment as it occurred. Only when Malak left her - infrequently, his hours of sleep irregular, his returns unannounced and unable to prepare for - was I able to relax, the echoed tension easing slowly and reluctantly from my own body.

But Juhani was worse. I wasn't tied to her nearly as strongly as to Bastila, yet she was undoubtedly facing the same trials as Bastila. But she had never chosen this path, and she faced them alone. I couldn't comfort her, our bond only sufficient to relay the basic fact of each others' continued existence. Thoughts and feelings didn't transmit, only the knowledge of her life.

Bastila was strong, I had no doubt that she would emerge from his torments only stronger still. She may give in, but she would not break. Juhani very well might. She was younger, more extreme in her stances. She had bent, but now she would surely be shattered.

I could only watch the earnest young cathar's bright core slowly fade, worn away by unseen and unknown assaults, and I could do nothing for her at all.

I couldn't bear it. It was too much, so I turned to the only thing that could possibly satisfy the restless horror of those hours. The only way I knew of to relieve the built up rage and hatred.

Canderous had sealed our prisoner in Juhani's room. It had an external lock, and it was easy enough to override the interior controls to convert it to a perfectly sealed storage area.

I stalked from my room, the ship's quiet hum comforting in its familiarity. The others were in their own rooms, reading or watching holonet recordings or playing games or studying. Bindo was assembling packets of herbs, though I couldn't imagine why, and Canderous seemed to be pacing and practicing a speech.

They mattered nothing to me at present. I had a single purpose in mind, one which would not be denied me.

I gathered Force, pressed it into shape around me to dampen sound around Juhani's small room. Kareth's cell.

I had promised him repayment, and I had no desire to renege on that promise. Lightning gathered at my hands, crushing Force waited for a thought, eager fire built within me. Vengeance was at hand, only the very beginning of it, but justice nonetheless.

I opened the door.

Kareth sat beyond, quite composed and relaxed, defiling Juhani's room with his vile presence. But I had nowhere else to put him, this room was the closest thing to a secure hold the _Ebon Hawk_ could offer.

I stepped inside, remotely locked the door behind me. If I had been other than myself, less than a master of Force and blades, I might have felt a tiny bit of concern at entering a prisoner's cell alone in such a manner.

Not this time. A sharp eagerness rose at the thought, I would welcome his feeble attempts to escape. It would give me more excuse than I needed.

"You have come, Revan," he said mockingly, not looking up. "I thought you had forgotten me."

"You are unworthy of the darkest hole in the galaxy," I hissed. Lightning flicked out in quick sparks, licking against his arms and face before returning to play about my hands.

Kareth didn't flinch. "I have told you, Lord Malak is not so gentle as you nor I. You cannot hope to succeed. Nothing one such as you could do to me will match the retaliation at my master's hand should I betray him to you."

"I need nothing from you but agony." I stepped closer, letting the lightning surge around us. Light, sharp, nowhere close to lethal. "And I am in no hurry."

He gave a quiet snort of almost laughter. "You play at darkness almost convincingly, were I not so intimately acquainted with its true power. No, Revan, I know you too well. You will always hold back a part of yourself, unwilling to surrender that illusion of control that you cling to so desperately. That is why Lord Malak has already won. That is why nothing you do can break me. And that is why you will be left alone, your friends turned against you by nothing more than their ability to go where you cannot and do what you refuse to consider."

"You're wrong," I said. "Whatever Malak does to them, we will remain true to each other. That is where the Jedi are wrong. Love is stronger than light, stronger than dark. Together—"

"But you are not together, are you?" Kareth said. He tried to ignore the lightning, but involuntary twitches showed that I was at least producing some effect. "You will never find them on time. Lord Malak has learned much since Malachor. He took the idea from you, took it farther than your weakness would permit. There is an art to destroying Jedi, to tearing away their precious codes and devotion. To the _Light_ , or to _you_ , it doesn't matter. In the end, they'll belong only to Lord Malak and the darkness."

"Enough words." I gritted my teeth and raised my hands, consciously forcing the lightning directly into him. If my _playing_ produced so little effect, let him face true fury. "Time for you to scream."

Once I actually put my mind to the task, it didn't take long at all.

* * *

Once my energy and fury was spent, I returned to my room to attempt proper rest. I lay restlessly, discontent even in the brief moments when I managed to sleep at all. As satisfying as it had been to return pain upon Kareth, vengeance rang hollow against the absence of my students. Bastila's thoughts were weary and unstable, her consciousness flickering in and out.

She didn't reply to my attempts to speak to her through our bond. And as much as I wanted to send her comfort and strength, I had none to offer. It felt as though any certainty of hope or resolve had been drained away.

We lay in the depths of a vast void, silence and pain our only companions. I had nothing else. I couldn't encourage her any more than she could encourage me. Though I knew now she wouldn't have tried. She believed she'd moved past me, but I was still connected to her too intimately for us to truly go our separate ways. This bond was far too strong for either of us to break.

And as much as I hated knowing exactly what she was going through, I still treasured that connection. Even if she had moved on, I had never chosen to let her go. Even if it brought me only anguish, if that was all she could offer, I couldn't bring myself to turn away.

I felt empty, lost, alone. I needed Bastila, but she was gone. I needed _someone_. I prowled the ship restlessly, missing something that couldn't be replaced. T3 monitored the hyperspace travel, but we were still days away from Korriban.

Bindo was a _Jedi_ , whatever his protests about 'balance' and neutral alignments. Mission and Sasha were asleep. T3 wasn't alive. Zaalbar wasn't human.

Canderous sat in the workshop, tinkering with the prototype vibroblade I'd given him a few lifetimes ago. He glanced up, gave a respectful nod in greeting as I approached.

"Finish practicing your speech?" I asked.

He chuckled. "Ever the perceptive one, Revan." He pretended not to notice my cracked and feeble voice, and I pretended not to care.

"What are you hoping to do with the blade now?" I asked, hoping some shop-talk would distract my mind from the emptiness and apathy that tried to consume me.

"The vibro-cell was aligned well for a standard weapon, but this blade actually has a dual weave. Cortosis isn't the strongest metal, so it needs to be alloyed to hold up in a fight. Pretty standard these days, but this blade has yet another layer. I think the vibration resonance could be improved, if I can figure out the core type."

I nodded. "Sounds about right."

He returned to his work, and I fell into silence. He moved with methodical care, seeming not at all self-conscious about me watching.

"Can you tell me more about the war?" I asked. "From your perspective?"

His hands stilled. "It was the most glorious fight I ever had the honour of participating in," he said quietly, almost reverently. "The chance to go up against the Jedi Revan directly, against you, is one that no generation before or after will ever match or surpass, I think."

He spoke on, calm and gruff and confident, telling stories with the voice of a leader. I listened, his words soothing. His voice started fading in and out, words approaching meaninglessness. I slumped forward, rested my head on the worktable, unable to keep my eyes open or attention focused any longer.

I couldn't say when he stopped speaking. I only vaguely noticed as he gathered me in his arms and carried me like a child back to my room, gently tucking my blankets around me as I finally properly slept.

* * *

I soon fell into a pattern for the remainder of our hyperspace trip to Korriban. During the 'day' I joined Kareth in his cell, channeling the fear and hatred that I felt at Malak's unrelenting assault on Bastila into my endless vengeance.

True to his word, Kareth never broke. True to mine, I never cared.

It's amazing the kind of strength required to keep channeling lightning more than a few minutes at a time. Had I not been well past the point of caring about such meager things as exhaustion and pain by then I might have given up and found a different pastime.

Instead I grew strong, sharp, focused. I pushed myself so far beyond my shallow former power that I began to wonder how I had lived with such a weak connection to the Force. If I couldn't even maintain a constant attack for more than a few minutes, what else couldn't I do strongly enough?

Through Bastila's mind I learned directly from Malak, turned his attacks on her mind and body into a fire that burned within me ever hotter and stronger.

Then Malak would leave Bastila, and I would leave Kareth, and I'd go sit with Canderous. He had stories of war, of exploration, of simple life. And he understood my drive, never tried to dissuade me from my course. I could tell him what I had done, tell him what I yet planned to do. He understood the necessities of war. And though he didn't understand exactly what my struggle with the Force was about, he didn't care. He even said it; "Light side, Dark side, it doesn't make any difference to me. You're Revan, and I'll follow you anywhere."

He was stable, unwavering. When I cried and railed against Malak, when I felt I couldn't bear this any longer, he would stand silently and hold me, just offering his strength. When I sat burning with self-loathing for what I was doing, knowing I wouldn't change Bastila's or Juhani's fate the slightest by hurting Kareth in turn, he calmly assured me that he understood or offered a quiet story from his past to bring my mind away from the ever-looming pit of apathy and despair that waited to consume me.

I held no illusions about Kareth. If he got free, if I showed a moment of weakness, he'd kill us all in our sleep and then go join Malak in making Bastila and Juhani suffer for our impertinence. I would not let that happen.

So my days passed in restless fire and undying hatred, my nights in Canderous's company to hold back the silent fear, and we flew ever farther from my Sisters and ever closer to Korriban.


	52. Korriban: Part 1

The Star Map echoed toward me from the planet below, a beacon in my mind. The heaviness of its Force-constructed workmanship shone out among the shallow sea of midnight fire that seemed to permeate the planet. Korriban, home to Sith lords and fallen Jedi alike for uncounted centuries. Its aura of strength and aggression sparked against my straining Force sense, further fueling my determination.

"Bindo. Can you play the part of a fallen Jedi?"

He shrugged. "I've always been quite effective at mental manipulation abilities. It's no great stretch to add overpowering fear to my repertoire should anyone desire a demonstration of my focus."

"Do you want to come with me, or stay here? I warn you, if you choose to accompany me into the academy you must do exactly as I say. I cannot afford any hesitation or defiance."

"Ah, keep your threats. I'm too old to be scurried about by a sprout like yourself, destiny or no destiny. I'll come with you, and I'll not oppose you, but I'm not going to promise my unconditional obedience."

"Then stay here," I ordered. "I don't need you if you won't be an asset. Guard the ship."

I turned away, ignored the old man's very loud and obvious sigh of disapproval.

"I had originally planned to stay long enough to win the entire academy to my cause, but we can't afford to take the time now," I said, addressing the assembled team. "I'm going to crush any opposition, head straight to the Star Map, and get to Malak before. . . as soon as we possibly can."

Mission raised her hand. "But, if you weren't strong enough to face Malak before, and now you'll be alone, how can you hope to defeat him _without_ bringing the Sith along? I mean, not that I want to share space with them, but you can't just change your plan like that and expect it to still work out."

"My power is returning faster than Malak could hope to contend with," I said, holding my hands in front of me. Lightning crackled about them at my call, but not the wild chaotic lightning of a month - or even a week - my power was tight, controlled, perfect in its simplicity. It didn't jump between my hands or travel up my arms, just sparked at my fingertips in submissive readiness. "And I don't expect to leave here completely without allies. Once the students witness my power, I wager several will be perfectly eager to join me."

"Do you need any of us?" Canderous asked.

I shook my head. "Non-Force users would be nothing but liabilities here. I'll take T3, the rest of you wait here. Guard the ship, and if any punk Sith students try to steal it have Bindo demonstrate his mental powers."

I strode into the settlement with a decidedly extravagant flow of Force lightning dancing around me in a clear demonstration of my power, my posture making it clear that I considered everyone and everything here far beneath me in status.

A twi'lek scurried toward me as I neared the check-in terminals. "Excuse me, I have something of importance to speak with you about. It concerns the Dark Lord of the Sith."

"What's my stupid apprentice done this time?" I asked.

He frowned. "I meant Lord Revan, the _true_ Sith Master."

"I am Lord Revan, but I am—" I stopped myself from saying 'not a Sith any longer.' Korriban wasn't the best place to go about proclaiming that I'd chosen to defy _all_ conventions. I would be posing as a Sith Lord here, after all, at least temporarily.

". . .in a great hurry," I finished.

"Oh, I understand. We were told by a. . . Matton Dasol on Kashyyyk that you were looking for rare lightsaber crystals?"

"Ah, yes. Of course." I'd completely forgotten. The past week had left room for nothing else in my mind than the blade-sharp focus, _get my sisters back._

"They're not cheaply obtained," he said, looking nervous.

"We will pay," I said imperiously. "Now hand them over."

He held out a heavy golden crystal that looked partly synthetic but matched the appearance of no mineral I'd ever encountered before and a shimmering silver-blue lattice-work crystal, each resting in a small transparasteel box for protection. The power that flowed through them felt different than anything I'd encountered in a lightsaber before. The sheer surprise of it dimmed my lightning as concentration wavered. These crystals were _interesting_.

I reached for them, but the twi'lek skittered back. "Thirty thousand credits for the pair," he said. "They were not easy to obtain, and are completely unique. No similar crystals exist in the galaxy."

"I have told you we will pay," I said firmly, pulling him toward me with a quick tug of the Force. "Now hand them over."

I waited a second, but he didn't move quickly enough for me. Another sharper Force pull brought the crystals right out of his hand and into mine. He yelped in protest, but I waved a hand at him dismissively. "Go talk to my agents, they'll see that you are paid."

I sat down right there in the spaceport, cross-legged for meditation, and closed my eyes. Disassembling my off-hand saber was the work of a few minutes concentration. I'd added as many safeguards against tampering that I could think up, and even for myself bypassing them wasn't simple. It was a valuable precaution.

The red crystal within pulsed weakly, subjugated and uncooperative. It wasn't _mine_ , having been taken from a dark Jedi back on. . . Tatooine, was it? So long ago. The golden crystal had a weight, a life to it of its own. Not just the common Force-resonance that all lightsaber crystals must share, but a true separateness that seemed exotic and intriguing. As I levitated it into place I could feel the resonance shifting between the supplementary focusing crystals.

This blade would be wholly unique.

I reassembled my lightsaber, opened my eyes and stood. The red crystal and the cyan lattice went into my pockets. I held the saber hilt out in front of me, switched it on. The golden-red beam was thinner than most, vibrating at a different frequency entirely. The familiar lightsaber-hum was higher, thinner and sharper, the sound itself reflecting the change.

I activated my purple main-hand saber, and it looked suddenly commonplace in comparison. The pure white beam of energy with purple edges, against the golden-fireglow of the new blade. But the liklihood of finding an equally perfect crystal in purple, an equally unique blade for both my sabers, would be minuscule. And I had far more important things to be about.

I flicked off the sabers, clipped them to my belt. It took only a moment's concentration to regain my mantle of electricity. I returned to my determined arrogant stride across the spaceport, as though the pause had never even occurred.

"Ah, I see the Ebon Hawk has changed hands yet again," said the official at the docking bay door. "Though your face is unfamiliar, your ship is not. A discount is in order on the docking fee, I believe."

"I don't need to pay any docking fee," I said, passing my hand in front of his face and pushing Force into the words.

"Of course, you don't need to pay any docking fee," the official repeated. He nodded politely, opened the door to the settlement proper.

Dreshdae was a small settlement - but the only one on Korriban with a spaceport at all. The chief settlement of an entire planet, and it could have fit in a single Taris skyscraper.

Why did I keep thinking of Taris? It was dead and gone, not worth considering.

In a corner halfway between the spaceport and the first of Dreshdae's shops I encountered my first sample of the exact quality of Force users that Korriban had to offer. A young man in the Sith academy greys stood before a trio of about the same age.

"So, what would you do?" the Sith demanded.

"Oh, we'd never go against you, Shardaan," said the twi'lek woman obsequeiously. "Whatever you ordered."

"No, that's idiotic. If I were a full Sith and gave an order that exposed weakness it would be your duty to kill me, not grovel and play along!"

"We understand now," said the human man, nodding eagerly. "Thank you for sharing your wisdom."

"Uagh, you pathetic hopefuls are all stupid beyond hope. You there, Jedi. You're looking to get into the academy, right? What should I do with these fools?"

I paused in my stride, having nearly reached them. "You dare interrupt Lord Revan?" I demanded. "Kneel, weakling, or die where you stand."

I let my lightning expand, crackling loudly and casting sharp brightness through the dim corridor.

The three 'hopefuls' immediately fell to their knees.

Shardaan didn't, though he took a step backward. He was so young, so arrogant. He should have sensed immediately how much stronger I was in the Force.

"Revan is dead," he said, sounding less than certain.

I held out a hand, casually began crushing his throat and chest, lifted him in the air for long enough for him to feel how completely helpless he was, then threw him forcefully to the ground. He stumbled, fell to his knees gasping for breath.

My smile was tinged with ice. "Since you're kneeling, you are pardoned. _This_ time. Do not stand in my way again."

I swept past, wishing my robes were a little bit more solid black and a bit looser and more flowing. The close tunic design the Jedi currently favoured left something to be desired when it came to dramatic exits.

The hopefuls began whispering among themselves, and I felt Shardaan's hatred begin to grow. I smiled. Hatred was so easy to manipulate.

The next Sith I encountered were a young pair, both human, standing and swapping stories and laughing uproariously. The woman stopped when she saw me, waved her companion to silence, and strode over. She was taller than I and stood close enough to make that fact quite obvious, though not so close that she risked stray sparks from my electric aura.

"And what have we here? A fallen Jedi, come to seek entrance to the academy?"

"I just left Shardaan with a taste of what happens to those who stand in my way," I said coldly. "Stand aside now, or I will demonstrate my superiority to you as well."

"Looks like someone's standing up to you, Lashowe," said her male companion. "Doesn't happen nearly often enough, if you ask me."

She snarled and turned away, stalked over to her companion and began berating him in a low voice. Pretending she hadn't backed down, no doubt; that she'd meant to walk that way the whole time.

I smiled and strode onward. Casual but determined. Move smoothly, appear detached. Though every beat of my heart screamed at me to hurry, to run, to smash through all obstacles, I knew I couldn't afford to alienate the academy. In the long run, I would need them nearly as much as I needed Bastila and Juhani.

Though the stock seemed decidedly weak at this time. Perhaps Malak already hired on any of the actual competent Sith, in which case I would have a difficult time finding enough with decent potential and training them properly. Though, also, it might make my job easier. Perhaps I could catch them young and impressionable, less heavily indoctrinated with Sith codes, perhaps expand my Revanite Sisterhood directly.

I could always hope.

I entered the cantina, asked for directions to the Sith academy. They told me, but warned that the guard wouldn't admit me until I'd spoken to Mistress Ban, the academy admissions overseer. She was unfortunately absent for the day, but I was assured she would be in the following day.

I chafed at the delay, but headed to the academy anyway to see if the guard could be persuaded.

He couldn't. Though he was quite impressed, he resisted my mental attempts to change his mind and waved off threats. The door was sealed, he said, and he couldn't open it himself. It required a special medallion, given only to students accepted into the academy. So even if I killed him, the door couldn't be opened.

I returned to the settlement, determined to get a medallion if I had to shake down half the students. Shardaan and Lashowe had demonstrated that the bar was set quite low for the academy's entrants. I would have been able to get in easily had I the time to wait for Mistress Ban, but I had no patience for such a long delay.

I prowled through Dreshdae, but it seemed that my displays of power had given me a reputation quite quickly. Hopefuls watched from a safe distance, citizens scurried out of my way as they would for any full Sith, and the academy's students were nowhere in evidence.

It wasn't until my return to the fringes of the settlement that I found my way blocked by a small gang of Sith students, all in greys, their posture and facial expressions all variations on confident arrogance.

"Well, looks as though we've found a bit of sport, my friends," the leader said. "I'm quite eager to blow off some steam after those tests."

"I can't stand Jedi," another said, flipping her lightsaber hilt in what was meant to be a menacing way. "And fallen ones are worse. Why do you all seem to think you're better than the rest of us? As though we haven't given up anything to be here? As if we weren't able to understand the Force as well as you?"

"They always seem to get into the academy so quickly," a twi'lek woman said. "Too bad we've already passed our trials, or we might have had the chance to take this arrogant fool down a few notches in front of the masters."

"I suppose we'll settle for a quiet bit of entertainment," the first said. "How about it, ready to die?"

Irritation and amusement warred within me. Lightning crackled at my fingertips, but it was tight, controlled, and not particularly intimidating. With so much rapid and intense practice, my power no longer leaked dramatically unless I directed it to do so.

Amusement won out. I had nothing better to do, nowhere to be, nobody else to play with. I may as well take my time with these idiots. After all, there was a decent chance at least one of them had the medallion I needed.

I smiled lazily, snapped my left hand once to demonstrate the power crackling at the ready. Nothing too overt, just a quiet reminder that I wasn't a simple target.

"No one here seems to believe me when I tell them I'm Lord Revan," I said in a conversational tone, heavy layers of power building around me as I drew in Force. Held it, ready. "I keep making examples, but it just doesn't sink in. They only think I'm mad."

The rodian at the back of the group exchanged a glance with the twi'lek. "She admits to being mad, and doesn't seem afraid," he said in huttese. "I find this disappointing. Not much sport to be had."

The human leader narrowed his eyes and smirked. "Speak for yourself," he said, eying me in a way that made me envision a few particularly painful ways to deal with him. "Mad or no, she's a fallen Jedi, and hasn't been accepted into the academy yet. That makes her fair game. For _anything_."

The rodian's expression shifted, he slowly raised one hand. I sensed the lurch and shift in the Force before he acted, raised my own hand in mirror of the motion.

I held the leader's eyes, grinned at him darkly. "Don't worry, darling, I'll save you for last."

He laughed, not intimidated. "Alright, you've had your chance to cower or beg, though you seemed disinclined to take it. Looks like we have our winner."

As one, they burst into action. The rodian seized me in the Force, forcing a temporary and incredibly uncomfortable connection that tried to drag away my strength and life energy. I did the same to him, but faster and sharper, drew in his strength even as his companion channeled lightning at me in a sharp focused burst.

The remaining three ignited their lightsabers, the hum shifting as they deliberately turned them to non-lethal modes.

I didn't have time to go for my own weapons. Against this many Sith, my blades would only get in my way.

I snarled with feral pleasure as the rodian staggered, crumpled under the sudden emptiness that threatened him. He'd recover, but not for at least several seconds. I raised my other hand in front of me, lightning crackling faintly at my fingertips, and caught the incoming blast of electric energy. Redirecting it, I brought it into submission, let it flow around me in a sparking bubble of power.

"Hello, Korriban," I hissed, and thrust both hands out toward my assailants. Power and exhilaration flowed through me, stronger and sharper than any adrenaline rush. Though I'd blocked two near-simultaneous Force attacks, my reflexes were so heightened that the opponents movements seemed sluggish, giving me plenty of time to think and move and react.

My own power, the absorbed power from the rodian, the captured lightning from the twi'lek, I combined it all into a wave of kinetic energy and shoved it out against the Sith students, held it and brought it crashing back against them from behind as they stumbled back.

The rodian lay stunned, the twi'lek jumped into the air as the push hit her, only to be hurled forward as the wave of Force energy slammed back into her. She flew toward me, past me, fell to the ground with a maladroit flailing.

The two human men fared better, being heavy enough and skilled enough to hold their ground despite my attempts to uproot them.

The human woman reacted instinctively, anchoring herself with a Force pull against me just as my push hit her, but like the twi'lek her reaction wasn't calculated against the wave of kinetic energy being brought back in the opposite direction. She released her pull, but staggered off balance.

I jumped, twisted through the air to land well behind the group, and grabbed the two men with crushing Force, my hands extended to focus in on them.

"Revan's come home," I whispered, the world flaring with golden light. Korriban was so familiar, so comforting, so _powerful_. Here I could do anything. Here my power was unmatched.

I dropped the leader, let him fall to his knees gasping, and brought my attention to the other three students. Having recovered from my kinetic attack, they'd raised their lightsabers and were charging.

The weapons were still in training mode. They wanted to hurt me, not immediately kill me.

My body tensed, dread and anticipation coiling in my stomach, and I laughed as I integrated the instinctive fear into my power. The Force raged through me, fire and strength.

The world shone with power and potential. I no longer saw the battle, I _felt_ it, tingling through me, mind and soul.

Five of them. One of me. I could channel two Force attacks at a time, one with each hand. If they'd been even close to the strength of Bandon and his Dark Jedi, I'd have been forced to flee.

But they were not.

And I am Lord Revan.

I raised a hand high, draining the strength from the nearest assailant, then channeled it back toward them as lightning and kinetic force. I grabbed another by the throat with the Force, pulled his lightsaber away and crushed it into useless scrap before his eyes as I released him to halt another attack.

My worries about Juhani and Bastila fell away, my concern about wasted time faded.

I jumped, ran, spun and flared. Lightning burst out to intercept enemy sabers, Force pushed my opponents away or pulled them off balance. I danced, flowed with the Force, moved with a speed and efficiency of movement that I couldn't remember ever experiencing before.

This was mine, a birthright seized through victory and power. Korriban had called to me, so long ago, and now I'd finally returned.


	53. Korriban: Part 2

I barely noticed the individual actions of fighting any longer. I moved, a fire of action amid sluggish obstacles whose only purpose was to service my satisfaction. Lightning danced beside me, crushing energy flowed through me. Power raged through my very blood, my heartbeat glowing with ever-growing strength.

I'd held myself back so long, been so _careful_. But power wasn't about caution. It was about control. About domination. Malak had understood that. So did I.

My enemies were helpless before me. They couldn't flee, couldn't fight. Soon enough, they wouldn't even be able to _hope_ for escape or rescue. I would teach them just what it meant to cross Darth Revan.

 _Yes! Show me!_

The voice in my mind flickered, wordless. Just a desperation, eagerness, plea.

 _Bastila?_

The moment shattered, I spun to a stop. Crackling orbs of lightning in each hand, I blinked at the scene before me. Three of the students lay on the ground, convulsing and twitching in silent agony. Two stood frozen, held unmoving by Force bindings that pressed so tightly their breathing was shallow and desperate, barely sufficient for survival.

My hands were raised, ready to. . . what?

My fists closed over the lightning, sending a soft jolt through me. The golden light faded from my vision, my burst of energy flagging.

Revulsion shuddered through me as I saw the web of Force that I'd woven, crushing and burning and trapping these students so viciously. I'd never done anything like it before, not on such a large scale.

I recognized it at once. It was an expanded version of the torture web Malak had been utilizing on Bastila for the past several days.

Even with Kareth, I'd never gone quite this far.

I swayed, feeling like I'd be ill. I quickly distanced myself from the reality before me, closed my eyes for a long moment to regain my calm. They had attacked me, and on Korriban you had to make an example of your strength. That was all. There was no middle ground, no backing down, no surrender. Win or die, there were no other options.

I released the field, which I quickly found had also been feeding their stolen life and Force energy directly into myself. Without that bolstering intake of pure strength I felt worn and exhausted.

"I need a Sith student medallion and uniform," I informed them, my voice flat and empty. "I have no desire to continue demonstrating my dominance in so blunt a manner. Next time, I suggest you pay a little more attention when the person in front of you is the strongest Force-wielder in the galaxy. That's such an embarrassing mistake to make, a simple check with the Force would have shown you the utter idiocy of attempting to _kill_ Lord Revan."

"You really are mad," the human woman gasped from where she lay. None of them seemed inclined to do more than lie where they'd fallen and gasp for breath.

I helped myself to her uniform shirt and the twi'lek lady's trousers, took their lightsabers and medallions, and strode firmly toward the cantina.

I desperately needed a drink. And to spend a good long time in serious contemplation. I had to be firm and calm when I approached the academy, in my current mental state it would be sheerest folly to approach the Sith stronghold.

I couldn't believe how quickly, how easily, I'd slipped into Sith patterns. Korriban's ease of access to the Force was part of it, but I couldn't deny that part of me had been dying every minute since my Sisters were captured. Since Bastila left me. It made me sharp, strong, dangerous.

But for the first time, I worried that focus might be my undoing. Had I dived too quickly, too deeply? I'd been able to pull back this time, but only thanks to Bastila's unintentional distraction, and it didn't take too many times of fully submersing yourself in the Force before you were irrevocably changed. Especially in the heat of battle, I couldn't afford that distraction.

Maybe I should have brought some backup, someone to protect, someone to keep me focused. Canderous, Z, even Bindo.

 _Darth_ Revan.

I had no desire to walk that path. I couldn't afford to lose what little self I had remaining to me. Power was worthless without purpose. Kareth gave himself to the darkness, without even touching the Force he was as corrupted and irredeemable as a man could become.

I would not let the same happen to me.

 _Thank you,_ I whispered in my mind. _My Bastila, thank you._

Her reply was wordless, disappointment and fear and loathing. The effort of touching her thoughts brought her echoed pain flooding into my awareness. Malak was there, with her, and I had no one left to take it out on. Kareth was safely tucked back at the _Ebon Hawk_.

But part of her emotional torrent wasn't in reaction to Malak at all. It was directed at me. And that hurt even more.

I ordered another drink, plunked myself down at the pazaak tables. If I'd come this close to the edge of control, I had to find another way to distract myself or it would be a very long night. I didn't want to return to the _Ebon Hawk_ just yet, couldn't bear the thought of seeing anyone else after what I'd done.

It might not matter, but we were on such a fragile edge right now. Any little thing could shatter our team completely. And I would not let it be this. I just needed to settle myself, regain my calm and composure, then talk to that Sith door guard. If he didn't let me in now, I'd just carve my way through him and the door, no matter how long it took. Stone melted just as easily as durasteel before a lightsaber blade.

I drained my glass, hoping to replenish my courage. Self-loathing and recriminations would be no help to Bastila or Juhani now, but I could only offer what I had.

 _Have strength, Sisters. I am coming. Slowly, too slowly, but I am coming._

* * *

 _I wept. I screamed. I begged._

 _It didn't matter. Malak was only amused, only kept devising new methods to erode my spirit and will. Sometimes he talked, other times his attention remained more physical._

 _I wanted to give him everything, let his desire shape my path forward._

 _Yet there remained a barrier inside myself. The Jedi teachings ran too deep within me. I couldn't give in. I tried, tried so hard to embrace the Dark Side, but it repulsed me. I just couldn't make myself do it._

 _The longer he went on, the more my curiosity was dulled, the more my purpose was forgotten. I was losing the edges of myself, falling into delirium. Somehow, what Revan had tried to teach me was only enough to whet my longing to know about the forbidden, but what Malak did only drove me farther away._

 _Not toward the Light, oddly, nor toward the Dark. Just away. The Force felt weaker to me, flickered like a candle reaching the end of its wick. I would be burnt out soon, and the thought came sometimes as a relief. I would become empty, my resolve worthless._

 _Was this why Revan had refused to teach me? Because she knew I could not learn?_

* * *

I rubbed at my neck, peered blearily about the cantina. I'd fallen asleep at the pazaak table, and by the looks of it after losing a considerable stack of credits. And drinking my way through a wide variety of beverages of increasing strength, if the assorted glasses scattered in front of me were any indication.

A purple-skinned twi'lek woman sat in the corner, pretending to read her datapad but watching me intently. The barkeeper strode about casually polishing things and generally maintaining a busy air. We three were the only occupants of the room.

I groaned, tried to work out the discomfort from my awkward night's rest, rolled my shoulders and neck, rubbed feeling back into the arm I'd pressed into the table's edge.

The twi'lek stood and sauntered over, seated herself opposite me.

"I don't want to play right now," I said. I waved to the bartender. "Water?"

He nodded.

"I'm not here to play," the woman said. "We get a lot of your type here, and I am responsible for Academy admissions for this new class."

The water arrived, and I drained the glass and handed it back for a refill. The cool liquid helped me come awake, shake off the vague sense of despair and emptiness that loomed like a cloud.

Right then, I felt completely hopeless. There was no way I'd get to the Star Forge on time. Something terrible would happen, and whatever I tried I couldn't stop it.

"You undertook a singularly unique method to obtain your medallion," she said softly. "It is not encouraged for students to attack one another without sufficient cause, but creativity is generally rewarded."

I frowned at her.

"I am Yuthura Ban, of the Sith Academy. That is why you are here, is it not? To train as a Sith?"

I laughed weakly, gulped down half the second glass of water. "I may have forgotten much of my Sith training, but I could still take you in a heartbeat. I am here to claim what is mine."

She tilted her head. "You believe what you say. Interesting. What is here that you seek to claim as your own?"

"Korriban."

She blinked, leaned back to study me again. "Korriban? You would lay claim to the planet itself? By what right or authority could you make such a grandiose proclamation, even one of your natural strength?"

"I am Lord Revan, and I have returned to take command of my Academy and my homeworld."

"Revan was born on Deralia," Ban said. "Of all the mystery surrounding the Dark Lord, that is not a part of it. Korriban—"

"I did not say birth world," I said. "I said _home_ world. Nowhere else does the Force flow quite so hotly, quite so strongly. Malachor comes close, but after its destruction it tends to. . . unsettle anyone remaining in its influence for long."

"You do not speak like one mad," Ban said quietly. "I was told otherwise."

I laughed sharply. "Told? By those fools who thought to kill me for sport? Tell me, are they the sort of idiot I should expect once I seize control of this academy? If so, I may not bother."

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I am not the master of the Academy," she said at length. "Only its admissions screening officer. Master Uthar is the one whose power you must defeat to claim what you seek."

I took a sharp breath, slammed my fist on the table. "I have no time for this squabbling," I said. "If you would oppose my path, tell me now so I may destroy you."

"I have been long considering how to remove Master Uthar from power myself," Ban said. "With your help—"

I cut her off. "No."

"You have not heard my plan."

"I will not take power with alliances and politicking. I will prove my strength in the traditional way, reclaim what is mine with no chance for questioning or need for additional demonstrations. I have had enough of the weak standing in my way. My time is too valuable to waste."

Ban drew herself up, clearly affronted. "If I am only a waste of your time, then perhaps you'll be admitting yourself to the Academy?"

"Don't think I can't," I snapped. "I'm told the medallions allow access to the door, even if the guard is unwilling to assist me I suspect I can make them work for me. If not, I could carve steps out of the cliff and climb to the Valley of Dark Lords myself, or melt through the gate, or simply prevent anyone entering or leaving. A siege would soon starve your precious Academy out, this area of Korriban has no food production worth mentioning."

"Any of these methods waste far more time than a conversation with me," Ban stated. "Are you in a hurry?"

"You have no idea," I growled, clenched my fist under the table. The Force danced around us, I just barely held myself back from crushing her throat.

She clearly sensed the surge of aggression, shifted slightly in her seat. "Then we can begin the formal interview. You are a fallen Jedi, seeking entrance to the academy, correct?"

"I'm no Jedi. I am Lord Revan."

She coughed once. "You understand that claiming to be a dead Sith master does in no way strengthen your position here? We judge each on their individual merits, not on their name."

"I am clearly not dead, and if you ask after a demonstration of my _merits_ then provide me a target."

"If you would cooperate with my suggestions regarding Master Uthar—"

"No. I told you, I'm going to take him down in a traditional and formal duel, before the entire academy to cement my claim. I have neither need nor desire to work with you."

"I am the second ranked student in the entire academy," Ban said quietly. "If you seek to rule, I assume you'll not wish to be bothered with the administrative work? Or will 'Lord Revan' be filling out transfer forms of citizenship for fallen Jedi and Sith hopefuls, assigning quarters and overseeing the kitchens?"

I sighed. "I get your point. And you're right, I am not going to stay here. My apprentice must be destroyed, he has gone too far."

"You have an apprentice?" she asked. "How unusual, most Jedi abandon such ties when—"

"Malak," I snapped. "My _former_ apprentice. If I still occasionally call him by that title, it is merely because of habit, not because I hold any fondness for him after his cowardly betrayal. The way of the Sith is to confront each other and prove strength, not to slink about in the shadows." I sneered, contempt rippling off me. "What are we, common assassins using the Force as merely another cloak to conceal our blade?"

"Ah, of course, Darth Malak. I should have guessed." Ban's condescending voice seemed calculated to irritate, but the realization conversely snapped me out of my annoyance. Her attempt to manipulate my emotions, goad me into betraying something, only served to show me just how amusing the whole situation had become.

"There is no guessing required," I replied. "I told you who I am, you simply continue to disbelieve me. I'm frequently astonished by the number who don't recognize me, but I suppose the mask didn't help matters."

"If you truly are Darth Revan, if you somehow survived your student's betrayal, then why are you here? Shouldn't you be confronting him alone in strength, rather than slinking about at the Academy?"

I chuckled at that. "I was injured, forgot much that I once knew. My power is returning over time and with practice, but I lack the coordinates to his base. There is a Star Map here, an artifact of ancient power, part of a path that leads to where my fool of an apprentice has made his refuge. I need those coordinates in order to confront him."

"Ah. So you are Revan, but have lost your memory. How convenient."

Frustration flared up in me again, I tapped my fingers on the table one after another, eliciting a spark-hiss-snap as the lightning in each discharged into the plasteel.

"It is mostly _in_ convenient," I said sharply. "As is dealing with the likes of you."

"You have still not answered the question." Ban leaned forward slightly.

I sighed. "Which question was that?"

"Do you wish to become Sith?"

"How clear do I have to make myself? I told you my intent several times."

"This is a formal interview, a simple 'yes' would suffice."

"Then, _yes_ ," I replied. "In as far as taking control of the academy constitutes becoming Sith, I wish to do so."

"You seem strangely reluctant to use the word 'sith' in relation to yourself," Ban said. Too perceptive. "For a prospective student, one would expect more eagerness."

"I have told you who I am and why I am here," I retorted. "I am here to choose a new set of apprentices and warriors, and primarily to find the missing Star Map coordinates. I will leave the day-to-day running of the academy in your presumably capable hands when I leave, is that what you wish to hear? You can be my second as you are to. . . what's the current academy master?"

"Master Uthar."

"Yes, him. And you'll have even more power in my absence, since I have no doubt that any scheming to take me down will fail and end in your certain demise I can rest assured that you will be doing everything in your power to see that my academy grows strong."

"I see," Ban said flatly. "Since you have demonstrated your strength by humiliating five of our recently accepted students and conducted a formal interview with the admittance mistress, I can escort you to the Academy with the other hopefuls. You're in luck, today is the last day before formal training begins for our current set. Those you so stunningly demolished were the survivors of last year's hopefuls, a rather larger class. I suspect only one opening will be made available this time."

"I will determine individually their suitability for my academy," I said firmly. "A single untrained student can fall prey to misfortune or a trick of fate and best another who is more deserving. Determining strength by contest between ill-matched trainees is the fastest way to lose all but the very best and very worst."

"An interesting view," Ban said, her voice harder now. "I shall escort you to the academy, but I must ask that you not begin by challenging Master Uthar the moment we arrive. It might get me killed, if I am perceived to be bringing an assassin into our midst."

"I will make no secret of who I am or why I have come."

"Then it is against my better judgment that I make this decision. I hope that you are worth the risk."

"No one in the galaxy has yet bested me," I proclaimed. "I stand here because of my passion, my strength, my power, my victory. I am free, the Force serves at my call, and none can stand against me."

That was a bit of an exaggeration, I've been defeated many times. But the ultimate victory is surviving even through defeat and in that I couldn't be refuted.

Ban stood. I followed, though still somewhat unsteady. Even the glow of Force flowing through and around me couldn't completely dismiss the hangover. I really had drunk far too much the night before.

I would need to return to Kareth before Malak came back for Bastila again, at least with him my fury could be gainfully directed to further my own strength. Drinking myself into oblivion and losing at cards was not a useful reaction to my sisters' suffering.


	54. Korriban: Part 3

Ban and I approached the guard together, so he didn't hesitate to insert the medallion and slide open the massive door. I stepped past him and entered the Sith Academy.

The architecture was heavily carved stone, with high ceilings and thick doors that slid open with the grinding of stone on stone.

"Ah, there is Yuthura. And she brings another hopeful with her?"

The man appeared to be rattataki, though he could just be a heavily tattooed human. He was older than I'd expected, obviously experienced. I could see the faint golden glow in his eyes that showed his deep connection with the Force, but he did not appear unnaturally aged as one completely overwhelmed by power would have. A good sign for the state of those trained under him.

"A Jedi who has seen some training, yes Master Uthar," Ban said in reply. "A worthwhile addition to the academy."

"That I'll judge for myself. Tell me, human. What do you know of the ways of the Sith?"

"More than you, I'd wager," I said.

His eyes met mine, appraisingly. "Oh? Then would you care to demonstrate for us the powers of a Sith Master?"

I smiled, narrowed my eyes just a little. "Absolutely. But on what target, I wonder?"

Master Uthar laughed, a short and honest laugh. "You amuse me, young human. I can sense your potential, and you are brave to speak so to me. But your claims ring uncertain, and I see no power in your eyes, only desperation."

"Then you should be all the more wary," I said. "The desperate are capable of much that the merely ambitious would never achieve."

"Indeed, you may be correct," said Master Uthar. "But the true powers of a Dark Lord do not lend themselves to simple desperation."

I glanced about the circle, recognized Shardaan and the female student who had obstructed my path upon my arrival. "Shardaan there can attest to my power," I said, waving toward him. "Or may I demonstrate on him once more?"

Shardaan blanched. He actually backed a step away from me.

"Oh?" Master Uthar glanced between us. "You two have met before?"

I grinned. "He stood in my way. I removed the obstacle."

"Interesting. Well, I have no further objections to your training with us. You are clearly strong in the Force, though your arrogance may be your downfall if you do not curb your tendency to overstate your abilities. Continue as you have been, and I suspect you'll have half the older students out for your blood by the week's end."

"I will have claimed what I seek and departed long before then," I said.

Master Uthar laughed again, longer this time. "A week's time? To gain the mastery of the Force that we offer takes decades. You are ignorant indeed if you believe—"

He choked off as my power closed his throat, compressed his chest, and lifted him from the ground. My extended hand was the only part of me that moved.

"You misunderstand me," I said.

Ban closed her eyes and sighed.

I ignored her, turned to address the hopefuls. "I am Lord Revan, and I am here for two simple purposes. I need allies to stand with me as I face the legions of my traitorous apprentice Malak, and I must access the Star Map hidden within a certain tomb in the valley. If you seek to join me, you need only say as much. If you'd rather go your way, I will not stop you. So long as you do not obstruct my mission, you may continue your lives as you see fit. Ban here will be in charge of things in my absence, please don't kill her unless you're truly prepared to take on the administrative tasks of running and maintaining a Sith academy, which I doubt any of you are. It's really a tedious and thankless job, which she is welcome to keep."

Ban glared at me, made a sharp motion of her head to indicate Master Uthar.

As I turned to look, he took a deep breath, breaking himself free from my hold seemingly effortlessly. He twisted in midair and ignited his lightsaber, landing easily on his feet.

"Your claims are extraordinary," he said, his voice hoarse. The students and hopefuls immediately backed away, cleared space for the two of us to face off in the center of the room. "It has been many years since a Jedi came so far as to challenge me on their first day. And you, Yuthura. I expected better of you. Too afraid to challenge me yourself?"

"I am no Jedi," I said, allowing lightning to build at my fingertips. I didn't draw my lightsabers, but did keep my attention on his single red blade. He would be a true challenge, this Sith master. I suspected now, given the ease with which he broke free, that he had been merely waiting for me to reveal my accomplices.

"And I had no part in this, Master," Ban said quickly. "She came with the expressed intention of claiming the academy as her own and would accept no assistance."

"So you did offer," Uthar said. He laughed. "You are welcome to join your Jedi friend. You might last longer at her side than if you wait until I've dispatched her. And your end will certainly be slower if you wait or try to hide."

"Stay out of this, Ban," I snapped, then raised my voice. "All of you, keep out of this. I, Lord Revan, hereby challenge Master Uthar for command of this Academy. To submission or death, at the victor's preference. Are the terms acceptable to you, Uthar?"

"Your foolish attempt to give yourself a way out will fail," Uthar growled. "I will accept no submission now."

"And deny yourself the rather unique resource I represent? Your strength is great, but it is less than that of Darth Bandon, who I have already slain. It is far less than Malak, who will soon die at my hand. And it is less than mine, despite your decades of training and your surrender to the temptations of power. You are a fool, Master Uthar, to choose so easily to discard one as strong as myself, merely for the insolence of challenging you."

I brought an orb of glowing and sparking Force up around myself as I continued. "Your weakness and cowardice are plain. I'm surprised you've lasted this long. Or have you been killing off any student who grew strong enough to one day challenge you?"

I waited. He didn't reply, but I heard Ban's intake of breath from behind me. I smiled faintly. My guesses were close to accurate, then.

"You have weakened my academy with your greed for control instead of strength. Peace is a lie. You should have challenged the students directly and learned from your failings. Instead you have undermined our cause for your own comfort. You are weak, Uthar, and I am here to return this academy to strength."

"You speak with desperation hiding behind every word," Uthar said. "If you challenge me, then do so with more than words."

"Gladly." I drew my hands apart, electrical energy dancing between and around them in a barely controlled storm. Eager to be unleashed.

Uthar swung his lightsaber down, my lightning flared out to intercept. I'd injected the strike with enough of a push to throw his swing wildly away, forcing him to take a step back or lose his centered stance.

He adjusted smoothly, flowed with the backward momentum to convert it into a powerful roundabout swing, and jumped toward me in a blur.

Pulling on the Force, I dodged at an equal speed and brought the lightning together into my left hand. Targeted and direct, I kept him at a distance as I dodged and pushed out with lightning.

He was fast, he was strong, but he was no Sith Lord. Uthar could adapt easily to my moves, retaliate with speed and efficiency, but he lacked the sheer power that Bandon or Malak held.

It required my every bit of attention, absorbing his lightning and redirecting his attempts to draw on my strength directly, keeping up with his near-instant changes in direction and attack type, pushing him or his saber away when he got too close. But I did it with one hand, slowly gathered crushing Force around my other, and never once did he land a single blow on me.

He was outclassed, by a lot. His Force absorption ability was weaker than Malak's, though enough to break through my initial crush. This time, I would leave no chance for escape.

The battle looked impressive, no doubt. We circled, lightning and kinetic Force lashing out from each of us, he'd strike with his saber and I'd send him flying back with a push or a bolt of electricity, he'd retaliate with another Force attack and our strikes would meet in midair in a crackle and sizzle. The air grew heavy with Force, with the smell of electrical discharge, with the heat of our battle.

An unskilled observer might suspect that I was on the defencive, that my continual retreat and retaliation masked weakness.

I continued gathered crushing Force around my other hand, and I didn't draw my lightsabers. This was practice, essential practice against a strong opponent. I knew that my lightsabers wouldn't be enough to best Malak, that my mastery of Force attacks would be my only hope of survival. So I would teach myself, any way I could.

Uthar blasted out with lightning, then leapt into the air and came down toward me with a heavy lightsaber strike, his whole momentum and weight behind it. It was a clever move, forcing my attention to split between the lightning and his physical attack.

I caught the lighting in my ready hand, released the crushing choking energy into him as he drew near. His lightsaber fell from his grasp, deactivated as it clanged onto the stone floor.

I stood, one hand aglow with lightning, one hand extended toward him as he struggled and choked. The room was dead silent but for the faint crackling of the energy around me.

I tightened my fist and Uthar convulsed under the pressure. I raised my hand, lifting him higher, then brought him smashing down to the ground and released him. He went sprawling, coughing and gasping for breath.

Shardaan fled. I didn't blame him.

"And you would have put me in the same class as these poor young hopefuls?" I asked the rattataki. "How many students were you planning on accepting?"

"One," Ban provided.

Uthar snarled, reached out a hand. Force flared around him, but I was just as fast. My left hand shot out, blasted his lightsaber hilt with a heavy bolt of lightning as it flew toward him. The weapon went spinning away, skittered across the floor, then turned as it tried to direct toward its master again.

"I've discovered a particularly useful trick, thanks to your foolish students," I whispered, grabbing the saber with the strongest surge of Force I possessed, crushing it into a crumpled and sizzling ball of mangled metal. "Once you lose your hold on your weapon, it's vulnerable. And not many people create lightsabers able to resist my level of strength."

Power shone in Uthar's eyes, fury building within him.

"Who's the desperate one now?" I taunted, whirling away and raising a hand high, connecting with him and dragging away his strength to power my lightning. It crackled around my other hand, ready. "But unlike you, I do not seek to waste resources. If you surrender, I will let you live. You can even continue teaching here, so long as you do so according to my calculations."

"I will not be humiliated," Uthar hissed. "If you defeat me, then it will be only my death that proves my failure."

I smiled. "Good for you, finally you prove your strength. I'd have never stopped mocking you if you surrendered so easily."

He leapt to his feet, twisted away from my quick burst of instinctive lightning and ran. I frowned, taken off guard, and he raced down a stone corridor with the Force speeding his movements. Determination and intense focus radiated from him. He wasn't fleeing, he was planning something.

I considered the merits of waiting and destroying whatever he planned to bring against me in full sight of his students, publicly best him even when he held all the advantages, against the simple expedience of chasing him down and destroying him.

I elected to follow at a casual focused stride. Not running, in case it was a trap. Not hastily, as though to stop him before anything. Stalking my prey with determination, without concern for anything he might choose to do with those moments he gained.

A cry of protest rang out, a young man's voice, and then I heard a brief argument. A moment later, Uthar strode out into the corridor with a new lightsaber in his hand.

I laughed. "Is that all? You went to steal a student's weapon? Here I expected at least something mildly threatening."

"Underestimate me at your peril, Jedi fool," Uthar growled. "I am Master here, and you shall not claim what is mine."

"It's already mine," I said. "I just have to take it back from you."

Uthar snarled and charged forward, lightsaber leading, lightning building in his other hand. I pressed outward, a shield of electrified power and forward energy pulsing and flickering into life between us. His saber glanced off it, his lightning cut through only to end caught in my hand.

"You can't hope to win, Uthar," I said. "Surrender, and I will give you a place here. I would not waste so strong a resource needlessly. Submit to my greater strength, and learn how to overthrow me in proper time."

"I AM MASTER HERE!" he roared, charging again.

He pushed outward, accepted my retaliatory burst of lightning and dove onward, crashing through my shield and ignoring the twisting sparking power that burned fiery lines across his skin, singeing his tunic.

He was too close. Fear reached me for the first time, my distant desperation to reach my Sisters displaced by a present and direct urgency. _Survive_.

My hands moved even as I began considering my options, whipped out my lightsabers and crossed them in front of me, catching his blow just inches away. I was smaller, weaker, so I pushed back against him and used the move to throw myself into a backward roll, gaining space again.

Desperation clashed against desperation. My power flared, his power thundered. Lightning surrounded us both in a cloud of strikes and counters, each of us catching the other's attacks and deflecting them back and away, or dodging aside at the last moment. Sometimes we closed, lightsabers flaring and clashing, but I always sought to gain space and attack at a distance.

With the Force, I was the stronger. In close, we were more evenly matched. With a single blade, I'd have been hard pressed to defeat him, but my skilled use of the second blade tipped even the close combat slightly in my favour.

There was no time, now, to amass strength for a finishing move. Any time I tried to gather crushing Force, he attacked with another trick and forced my attention to the immediate.

He was no longer underestimating me. He was treating this combat with all the deadly seriousness of one who knew his only chance to survive was to kill.

Our exchanges grew shorter, sharper. His Force against my Force, his blade against my blades. But here I held the advantage. The past weeks of travel, I'd spent every night in focused rage, concentrating my lightning long past endurance, long past reason.

He would tire. I would not.

I could probably have ended it more quickly, had I truly put my heart into it, but we settled into a comfortably desperate rhythm of strike and counter. The battle ranged through the halls, into and out of students' rooms as I always sought to gain space and he tried to close in to strike with his lightsaber.

It was practice of a different type than my time with Kareth. A Sith who could fight back provided a completely different style of challenge, and I had no desire to end it too soon.

Of course, that confidence and lenience led to carelessness. And Uthar was quick to take advantage of any perceived weakness. The thrill of desperation and self-recrimination every time I realized I was close to failure pushed me onward, Force flowing around us and through us so thick and strong I could see a thousand ways to die in each moment, were I anything but perfect.

The knowledge that this foe would destroy me without hesitation spurred me onward, lent me strength. When it mattered, I was perfect. When I held the upper hand, my attacks grew slower, careless. When I fought for my life, I moved with precision and blinding speed.

A dozen times I demanded that he yield, and always he raged and shouted defiance. Hatred grew within him as the minutes wore into hours. The students still gathered around the corners of whatever part of the academy we fought in, watching in awe as two Force masters clashed for dominance over them, scurrying hastily aside any time our fight drew too near them.

They didn't dare cheer for either of us, knowing that Sith were rarely kind to those who aided their enemies, so we fought in a heavy silence, broken only by the crackle and flare and crash of Force powers and lightsabers, our quick breaths, our unnaturally fast footsteps as we moved together and apart.

Every blow, every attack aimed to disable or kill, and yet we fought on.

I could almost guarantee that none of the students would ever see a spectacle to match it.

Uthar knew I was toying with him, holding back. I could have killed him a dozen times over. I felt his fury, his loathing for my weakness, the strength of hatred that burned within him ever hotter. But he couldn't match me, he was simply outclassed. Any time he came close, the Force warned me and I reacted with my fullest strength and speed, blocking or deflecting or evading.

He never stopped trying, never stopped hoping that one of my openings would be true and not carelessness only because I knew I could compensate.

That could grow dangerous, I finally realized. If I grew too used to overconfidence, if I left such openings against an opponent even a hairsbreadth more skilled than Uthar, I'd have been the one dead a dozen times over.

Determination glowed through me, and I moved with final precision. Lightning blasted his saber wide, long enough for me to step forward. His lightning came in, threw my own saber off-target, but my second blade dove forward. He stumbled back, just avoided the blade tip that would have skewered him. His face tightened as he understood. The end had come at last.

"Surrender," I demanded, one final time.

"Never," he replied, dropped his lightsaber and brought both hands up in front of him, pouring electricity straight into me at point blank range with desperate strength that surpassed anything he'd done before.

I couldn't catch it all, couldn't absorb so much, couldn't move my sabers into line fast enough to deflect it. Agony flared across my chest and arms where the angry lightning scorched across me.

But I had learned something since the Leviathan. Pain is strength.

I screamed, pure power focused through my voice, directed straight into Uthar. His focus broke, the strength of that sonic blast shattering his concentration for a split second.

It was enough.

A lightsaber's blade burns through a body so easily, it felt almost unreal. The golden glow faded from his eyes, leaving them pale grey as he stared blankly into nothing and collapsed backward to the stone floor.


	55. Korriban: Part 4

I stood over Uthar's body a moment, relaxing out of combat-readiness and controlling the surge of weariness that accompanied the end of so prolonged a conflict, then turned to face my academy.

"I require that whatever protections rest on the tomb containing the Star Map be lifted at once," I ordered, standing straight though I wanted nothing more than to sit down or lean against a wall. "In the meantime, spread word to all the students. I leave tonight to reclaim my rightful place from the usurper Malak. Any who wish to join me are welcome.

"If you prefer to remain and complete your training under Ban, I will not press you to come unready. I need only those of unwavering strength and conviction, who understand the weight of this decision. Upon my return, the customs and curriculum of this academy will be rewritten to better suit my leadership style. Until then, _no one_ is to be killed without the direct permission of Ban who acts in my name."

The stunned students nodded automatically.

I turned to Ban. "You'll have to keep them in line at least several weeks, if not a few months. I don't know how far away the Star Forge is, how well defended it is, or how easily I'll be able to defeat Malak. Hold fast until my return."

She nodded slowly. "I did not truly understand your strength," she said softly. "When you called yourself Revan, I thought you a liar seeking admission through false pretense. But you have no need of such. It is true, isn't it. You are the true Dark Lord."

"No. I am no longer a Dark Lord of the Sith. I am only Revan, I do not serve the darkness you Sith worship as purpose."

Ban appeared confused. "But we are masters of the Dark Side, at least those like Uthar who have completed their training fully. It is not a religion, you of all people should understand—"

"No," I said again. "I have seen much of the Sith, of the Jedi, of the Force. I cannot lay claim to all knowledge and all wisdom, but this much I know. Grasping for too much will destroy you as much as giving away too much. The Sith are wrong, as wrong as the Jedi."

Ban looked shocked. "What are you saying?"

"Exactly that. This academy will no longer train Sith, it will train Force-masters who do not serve at the whim of ancient dichotomies. The Order of Revan will be built from the ashes of both orders, in the image of neither."

"You plan to destroy the Sith?"

"Yes."

"And the Jedi?" she asked, her voice more reverent.

"Yes."

"And we will be reborn anew, stronger than ever before?"

"Yes."

"Sith'ari," she breathed.

"No. I lay no claim to ancient prophecies or titles beyond my own. I am Revan, and that is enough for me."

She nodded, but I could see in her eyes that my denial did nothing to change her belief.

Others always seemed to see so much more in me than I ever found in myself.

I directed our conversation to mundane things, directions for how the academy was to be carried on in the interim period between my reclaiming it and actually taking possession of it upon my return after defeating Malak.

She seemed capable enough, and I trusted her ambitions to remain at a reasonable level. She'd not tried directly to challenge Uthar, and she knew I was at least his equal and probably his superior.

I would be safe enough for a few months. Years from now, it might become a problem, but I could deal with that another time.

* * *

"How many ships does the academy have which are capable of matching the _Ebon Hawk_ for hyperspace speeds?"

T3 beeped out a list, depressingly short. Four vessels total, three of them fit for no more than a handful of passengers. _Fire Dust_ , _Poison Flame_ , and _Star Kestrel_ were owned privately by various Sith, only one of whom was currently at the Academy. I could commandeer them, but it would create quite an stir and could cause problems upon my return.

The _Korriban Heart_ was a transport vessel, intended to quickly ferry students from various farther flung worlds to the Academy. Of course, with Darth Malak's tactics breeding fear and his troops' constant need of replacing, recruitment couldn't keep up.

The academy was nearly empty, in comparison to its usual contingent of hundreds of Sith of all levels, a state that irked me greatly. Sith and Jedi alike, it seemed, were falling into weakness. Instead of rising to the challenge presented by the current war, they just let themselves be worn down.

I ordered T3 to contact _Fire Dust_ 's captain, the only shipowner not off in farflung archaeological expeditions of dubious value.

We had a good two dozen students willing to join our expedition, and room on the _Ebon Hawk_ for two or three of them. And even that would be tight, especially once I regained Bastila and Juhani.

 _Fire Dust_ could carry maybe five at a stretch.

"I'll be taking the _Korriban Heart_ too, then," I said.

T3 beeped acknowledgment.

I'd have preferred a larger number of smaller ships, especially since _Korriban Heart_ had no weapons to speak of. A single stationary forward-mounted turbolaser, intended for cutting through stray asteroids and very ineffective against moving targets due to the ship's slow reaction time in realspace, hardly counted for anything. It was a transport, not a fighter.

"Do you have access to the Academy records yet?"

T3 answered in a longer series of beeps, relaying that he had some but not all.

"Which parts can you access? Does it include student files?"

He replied in the positive.

"Alright, bring up details on everyone who agreed to join us. I need to decide on who if any can be brought on the _Ebon Hawk_ with us. I'd prefer those with a decent amount of ability, but prioritize those with the most difficulty controlling their temper."

T3 inquired as to my peculiar method of deciding.

I smiled grimly. "Those most likely to be volatile are best kept under closest watch. Also, I might be able to teach them something as we travel."

He calculated for several minutes, then sent a shortlist of names to my datapad.

I scanned it, nodding - the Sith had a considerable dossier on their students. Then one name in particular caught my attention.

"Entry 3, is that correct?"

He beeped indignantly that he wasn't in the habit of giving faulty information, and any inaccuracies would be due to it being copied from an inferior database.

"Huh. Can you direct me to his room?"

* * *

"You volunteered to join my mission," I said. "Why?"

Following T3's directions, I'd found the correct room and now stood facing a young man - tall, dark-haired, with anger etched permanently on his face.

"Why not?" he demanded. "You're obviously strong enough to lead us well."

"Is that truly your reason?" I asked, pressing toward him with persuasive Force. Not enough to actually sway him, but enough to make him believe that I was reading his mind.

He narrowed his eyes at me, flinched his head to the side as though trying to shake off my mental pressure. "Why does it matter?"

"I am considering who to place on which ships, what tasks to assign to each member of my team, and where my new students would be best utilized in the coming fight," I said. "Understanding why they make the choices they do is the fastest way to come to a conclusion."

The young man shrugged. "I joined the Sith so I could fight back for my homeworld, alright? The Republic abandoned us, but the Sith are strong. We have the conviction to _win_."

"If you're so loyal to the Sith, why do you agree to join me? Why would you turn on Malak at the word of a stranger?"

"Malak is weak, cowardly. His armies fight with more honour than him. He betrayed us _all_ when he turned on Revan, the war has been in a downward spiral ever since. We're barely holding the advantage now."

Something in his tone sounded off, just a little. It wasn't deception, but he spoke without real conviction either.

"Those are true reasons," I replied, "But they're not _your_ reasons. Tell me, Dustil. Why do you want to join me?"

He hesitated a long moment.

"You plan to destroy Malak. That's all the reason I need. I was originally going to work my way up through the ranks and challenge him myself, but it doesn't matter to me whose hand holds the blade so long as he _dies_."

He had his fists clenched by his sides, jerking them in occasional emphasis. It made me smile.

"What are you smirking about? You think I'm weak for following you instead of seeking my own vengeance?"

"No, your mannerisms just remind me of a. . . friend I once traveled with. He waved his fists the same way when he was upset. Carth Onasi."

He flinched visibly at the name, his face tightening in rage. "Don't tell me you came with _him_. If this is all some stupid Republic trick to get me away—"

"No," I said. "We no longer travel together. How do you know him? Relative? You have the same surname."

"He's my father, for all the good it did either of us. He's the same as his precious Republic fleet, useless. Never there when you need them."

"He told me his family were all killed. He's been tirelessly hunting down the man responsible for Telos for years now."

Of course, it was ultimately I who captured Kareth, not Onasi. He jumped ship too soon, ran away before confronting his nemesis. I'd have to point that out to him if our paths ever crossed again.

Dustil shrugged. "Then maybe he finally found some spark of strength, under all that Republic lackeying. I don't care. As far as I'm concerned, Carth Onasi is ancient history."

"I guess it's a good thing he's not on board any more, with both of you around I'd have to stop calling him Onasi."

Dustil snorted. "No need. Just Dustil works fine. Or, better yet, give me a codename. Then he'd never have reason to connect me with the boy he abandoned on Telos."

"Codename, hmm? How do you feel about Sister Dusty?"

He nearly choked on his startled laughter. "You're joking, right? _Sister_? I thought Sith types were into 'Darth' style names."

"Well, if you're joining my Revanite Sisterhood, you'll be called Sister. You're actually the first man to sign up. That makes you. . . hmm, fourth sister, now is it? Pretty prestigious slot. If you want it, of course."

Dustil shook his head, frowning. "Wait, I don't understand. What is this Sisterhood? I thought you were a Sith."

"No, I cast aside both Jedi and Sith," I explained. "I'm getting ahead of myself, but Fourth Sister is still available if you want it. I'll save it for you a few weeks, in case you want some time to think about it. My path is a little more conservative than the Sith, and retains ultimate control rather than choosing to surrender to the desire for power, but it's certainly far darker than the Jedi would ever accept."

"Some of the other students say you're completely mad," Dustil said. "I'm beginning to think they have a point."

"Why's that?" I asked.

"Your mind doesn't flow like everyone else's. Your thoughts, your actions, your decisions. . . they seem disjointed, unconnected, as though there are pieces missing."

"Unsurprising," I said. "When Malak betrayed me, the Jedi captured me. But I was seriously injured, my mind damaged beyond repair. To fill in the gaps the Jedi imprinted a loyal Republic smuggler's identity over the empty places, and some of the parts that were just fine the way they were. It's been a struggle, integrating both identities, trying to decide who I actually am. I believe I'm finally close."

Dustil was silent for another long moment before replying. "Then you are Revan truly, no mere impostor seeking to bolster her reputation."

"As far as I have been able to discover," I said. "It's always possible this is yet another layer of deception, the only one whose word I have on it is a former Jedi, but I trust her."

"A Sith Lord who travels with Jedi and Republic officers? No wonder you're losing your mind." He said it with a sardonic undertone. I knew it was intended humorously, so I smirked in reply.

"I also have a Mandalorian," I said. "So, pretty much everyone who's ever hated me has traveled with me in these past few months."

Dustil chuckled and shrugged. "As long as it ends with Malak dead, I don't care if we travel with a plague of gizka."

I cleared my throat. "Ah, well. About that. . ."


	56. Korriban: Part 5

I took a few hours to interview the other applicants, eventually decided on Dustil, Mekel, and Lyuran to join me on the _Ebon Hawk_. Mekel was a particularly powerful but untrained young man who'd been in my intended group of hopefuls, while Lyuran was a friend of Dustil's who demonstrated herself to be quite skilled at mental/emotional manipulation and kinetic Force abilities.

I assigned the remaining volunteers to _Korriban Heart_ and _Fire Dust_. Fere Ertan, the captain of _Fire Dust_ , had refused to sell or let his ship. He insisting on flying it himself, but he did agree to join us. While I didn't completely trust him, being a full Sith and all, it was a pretty good offer. I didn't exactly have the credits to buy it outright, so better he agree to fly with us than I commandeer it away.

I was surprised by the number of teachers who elected to join me; fully four of my twenty-some recruits were adults, Sith trainers who seemed to understand much more deeply just what this meant.

I could tell they were starting to also believe my claims that I was Revan. While most would stay on Korriban safely out of the fight, preferring to wait to see who won before choosing a side, enough could sense the power of destiny around me to make the choice of joining me early, probably hoping to ingratiate themselves with Korriban's new Lord.

Which was fine by me. I didn't particularly care about their motivations as long as they did what I ordered. We needed to bring Malak down and reclaim the Star Forge.

All the arrangements and interviews took a bit longer than I'd anticipated, so it was nearly local night by the time Dustil, Mekel, Lyuran, and I arrived back at the _Ebon Hawk_.

"Canderous, you around?" I called out as we came aboard. "I want you to meet our new Sith recruits, and—"

Something was wrong. I couldn't detect Saul Kareth's presence any longer, couldn't sense Canderous. Bindo was sleeping in his room, Sasha was hiding in her cubby behind the cargo bay. Mission and Z were gone.

I turned, focusing my mental detection out. I'd never been the strongest at Force sensing at a distance, and without Bastila nearby my range seemed even weaker than I'd remembered. My senses dulled somewhat by the background emanations of Korriban itself, I found no trace of them.

"Something's wrong," Lyuran said, picking up on my mood. "Lord Revan?"

"Most of my crew is missing," I said. "Stand guard here with Mekel. Dustil, with me."

He followed me through the tight corridors of the _Ebon Hawk_. I sensed no intruders, only Sasha and Bindo. I headed to the cargo bay, knelt by the hidden panel.

"Sasha, you in there?" I asked. "It's Revan."

I heard her let out a relieved sob, and a moment later the panel clicked and slid open. She crawled out, shaking. Without seeming to notice Dustil she hugged me tightly, tears dripping onto my shoulder.

"Sshh, it's alright," I said, doing my best to sound soothing. "What happened? Where is everyone?"

In her peculiar mandalorian, which she often still reverted to entirely in times of distress, she told me that a bad stranger who 'felt broken' had come aboard and fought Canderous with a sword.

Mission heard the fighting and told Sasha to hide. Then Sasha had only heard clashing blades and quick footsteps, then crackling and T3 beeping quickly. Then Z had roared and there were more blades, more crackling, but distantly. Then everything had been quiet. So quiet for a long time, but she didn't dare come out until I had called for her.

"Do you know which way they went?" I asked, still not sure how well developed her instinctive Force abilities were.

"Na." She shook her head, but began to relax. I felt her trembling subside. Then she saw Dustil and tensed against me, staring up at him.

"It's okay," I interjected. "Sasha, this is Dustil. He's going to be joining us from now on, and a couple others."

She nodded, but kept her eyes on him warily.

He crouched beside me, sat back on his heels. "Hello, Sasha," he said gently. "Nice to meet you."

She nodded again.

Dustil glanced toward me. "How many are missing?" he asked.

"As far as I can tell, the mandalorian, one twi'lek, one wookie, and our human prisoner. Check the ship. I only sensed Sasha and our healer, but there may be signs of battle. And check the control room, my droid should be there."

Dustil nodded, made his way out into the hall.

I waited with Sasha until she'd calmed down, then exhaled slowly. "I'm going to need you to be brave for me, alright? I'm going to find where everyone went, but you have to stay hidden, safe. Can you do that?"

She nodded, fear creeping back over her expression.

"I'll come back as soon as I can, I promise," I said. "We're almost done on this world, then we're going to get Bastila and Juhani back."

"Mission?" she asked.

"That's what we're doing right now. We're going to find what happened to her and Canderous and Z." _and Kareth._ "Just wait here. We'll be back. Everything will be just fine."

She hugged my neck one more time, then crawled back into her hiding space and slid the door closed.

I let out a breath, then stood and crossed to Bindo's room. The door was locked, so I knocked loudly. "Wake up!" I called.

I sensed no change from within the room, he wasn't roused by my persistent banging either.

"Your droid is fried," Dustil reported from across the central room.

I turned from Bindo's door. "Is he repairable?" I asked.

Dustil shrugged. "No idea. I'm not much of a mechanic."

I growled softly to myself. "Are the controls still locked?"

Dustil nodded, crossing toward me.

"Alright. Signs of battle?"

He shook his head. "Not that I can tell. Your ship isn't the cleanest, and I'm no investigator. It'll be tricky to discern much from what you have. There's no obvious blood or bodies or severed limbs or lightsaber gashes. I'm not qualified to say beyond that. This one room," he gestured to Juhani's room, Kareth's cell, "seems to have been exposed to considerable electrical energy. I'd say Force Lightning, at a guess."

I grimaced. "That was me. I've been practicing sustaining Force powers for long periods of time."

"There are similar marks, though less dramatic, across the wall here," Dustil said, waving a hand in an arc to indicate the area between Juhani's room and the hall to the exit ramp. "You also?"

I crossed to it, shaking my head. "I had the door closed every time," I said. The scoring on the wall was faint, but the pattern did seem indicative of Force Lightning. And not mine. "Well spotted," I said, nodding. "Anything else?"

"Did you mean to leave the fore compartment open in the cargo bay?"

"The what?" I asked.

"The compartment in the wall, behind the storage bins."

I shook my head. "I didn't know there was one."

We returned to the cargo hold, where in the shadowy recesses of the wall, about halfway between floor and ceiling, a curved door opened onto what I'd assumed to be a coolant pipe. Behind was a small, well-concealed, and completely empty compartment.

"Well, that's not a good sign," I said, frowning.

Between Sasha's reports of the intruder 'feeling broken' and the crackling sounds, plus the lightning scoring on the walls, it sounded like a Sith. But breaking into this hidden compartment even I hadn't known about indicated it was someone with specific knowledge of the _Ebon Hawk_.

One way or another, they'd managed to overpower and apparently kidnap my entire crew - minus Sasha locked safely in her hiding spot and Bindo locked safely in his sleeping quarters - as well as stealing unknown items from a secret compartment.

Sith? Smugglers? The Exchange? What could connect them, and why would they _take_ my crew instead of just killing or knocking them out?

It just didn't make sense.

"Can we bring Lyuran in here?" Dustil asked. "She might be able to sense an echo of whoever was using the lightning."

I nodded, and he walked toward the ramp. A short conversation later, he returned with the blond sith beside him. She held her hands close to the walls, eyes closed, head tilted slightly. Mekel came up to join us, and Dustil motioned us to move back.

"Lya can concentrate best without anyone close," he whispered.

While we waited for her, he took me to see the control room. T3 was shorted out and looking quite dead, though nothing was obviously physically broken. He seemed to have been hit with Force Lightning as well, if Dustil's assessment was accurate. I suspected it was.

Lyuran gave a sharp gasp, and Dustil rushed back out to her. I followed less hastily.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

She nodded, but her outstretched hand was trembling. "That room. . ." she gestured toward where I'd been keeping Kareth. "It echoes with pain. Unbearable, unending."

"That would be my practice room," I said. "Our prisoner escaped from there. Can you tell where he went? With whom?"

Lyuran glanced over as though reappraising me, then shrugged. "I'll try."

She returned to the lightning scoring on the wall between the cell and the exit ramp, hovered her hand near it, closed her eyes.

Dustil backed away to give her space, and I followed. We waited several minutes, then Lyuran frowned and backed away from the wall.

"What is it?" Dustil asked. "What have you discovered?"

"Jorak Uln was here," she said, frowning. "I thought it was a mistake, but he must have found a secret tunnel to the surface. He obviously isn't restricted to the Valley like we assumed."

"Who's Jorak Uln?" I asked.

"He was Master of the Academy before Uthar forced him out and took over," Dustil explained. "He's been terrorizing students in the Valley of the Dark Lords for years now; there's a reward for defeating or escaping him if you're a hopeful, but the more advanced students are advised to keep clear of him."

"He's got a twisted code of some kind, like he's still a teacher in some way," Mekel added, speaking softly. "If you're weak enough he won't kill you. Once you're trained, though, he won't hold back. Anyone who's gone after him in their strength never returned. I was planning to try for him myself in the prestige trials, before you came along."

"Why would he want anything to do with my crew?" I asked, dread beginning to build alongside my anger. I did _not_ have _time_ for this!

"Who knows. The man's completely insane."

"Lyuran, can you try one other place?" I asked. "There's a secret compartment in the cargo bay that I didn't even know about."

She nodded, and I led her to the open empty hidden compartment. She held her hand just within the area, closed her eyes for a long moment.

"Secrecy. Deception. Treachery. This has been used for many things. Most recently, though. . . I feel desperation. And see. . . a rodian, wearing red. I think I've seen him hanging out with the Dreshdae cantina's bartender."

She nodded, backed away and let her hand relax to her side. "That's all I can tell."

"That's enough to start on. Thank you. Let's go interrogate this cantina person, shall we?"

* * *

The rodian, it turned out, was a spice smuggler. He knew Davik, and when the _Ebon Hawk_ showed up without its owner, he had been scoping us out covertly ever since. He grudgingly admitted that he'd been hoping for a chance to retrieve his goods without needing to pay for them, since Davik so obviously didn't need the credits any longer.

The compartment was frequently used for slipping things through planetary customs checks, though why they would bother on _Korriban_ was my question. We hadn't even been checked for cargo, much less contraband.

He explained that it wasn't so much the travel _to Korriban_ that was a problem so much as getting through other planets. And besides, secrecy was always a wise plan.

Mekel asked if this was relevant, and I admitted it wasn't, and asked the rodian if he had seen anyone suspicious entering the ship.

"Oh, yes," the rodian smuggler said. "This old man came along with a bunch of droids. They were really, _really_ quiet. They were walking, but so softly it was like they glided. If I hadn't been looking, I wouldn't have noticed them. No one else seemed to. They just walked up the ramp, then there were shouts and a really loud scuffle, crackling and thumping. Then a while later the old man came out, rubbing his hands together and laughing, he didn't sound completely sane. Rambling on about some great destiny."

"That would be Jorak Uln alright," Dustil said. "From the stories surviving hopefuls have brought, he's totally lost what little sanity he had."

"His droids carried out several unconscious people, and then the ship was quiet. I guessed that there would be no better chance to retrieve my spice, so. . ." the rodian shrugged. "I slipped aboard, grabbed it, and left. I wouldn't steal anything else, of course. Even if I had found anything of value anywhere aboard."

"You left without closing the compartment," I said. "Why? Without that clue, we'd never have known to come after you."

"Your ship is haunted," the rodian explained in a whisper. "There were grunts and tapping and scuffling noises all around, even though it was completely empty. It was spooky, and I'd gotten my spice anyway. It didn't matter if I left the place in a bit of a hurry. What if the crazy man and his droids came back?"

I laughed. Bindo did make noise in his sleep, and occasionally pushed things around with the Force subconsciously. His self-protection instincts from years of sleeping alone on hostile Kashyyyk were undiminished. If he'd sensed a stranger aboard, he may well have been trying to ward him away in his sleep.

"Which direction did the crazy man go?" I asked.

The rodian shrugged. "Once he left the hangar, I see anything more. Can't help with that. Though. . . are you crazy yourself?"

He sounded oddly hopeful at this last.

"What do you want and how much will you pay?" I asked.

"Small favour, pay a few thousand credits depending on how good you are at bargaining with a hutt."

"And what is this small favour?"

"Deliver a box for me. That's all. It goes to Tatooine, to the hutt in charge of the swoop race track. He'll pay you, pay good."

"And is this box dangerous?"

"Yes, very very dangerous. Never ever touch without gloves. Never let your skin touch it. Never _ever_ open it. Anyone who touched or tried to open it died. Just died. No response, no injuries, dead. Lying beside the box, dead." The rodian laughed. "If you are crazy enough to transport it, you might be too crazy, so I'm warning you. Don't open the box."

"I never agreed to transport it," I said. "I'm not heading to Tatooine any time soon."

"You going to Tatooine any time in next several months?"

"I might, but I can't promise. I have very important things to be doing."

"Thousands of credits if you deliver it safely to the hutt," the rodian wheedled.

I sighed. I had _enough_ money for the moment, but thousands of credits for a simple transport job - however dangerous the contraband - wasn't something to be lightly ignored. It wouldn't dent any of the truly expensive purchases I'd need to make, but if I survived my confrontation with Malak I'd need all the credits I could find to rebuild the Republic around my new order.

"Fine, put it aboard," I said. "It's in a protective case, I'm assuming? So it won't be touched accidentally?"

The rodian nodded. "Thin shell over outside. Easy to remove, but don't. I'll have it on the ship in one hour."

Our business concluded, he scurried off somewhere and I didn't call him back.

I turned to my trio of new recruits. "Is there any way to find this Jorak Uln? Is his location known?"

"He usually was found in one of several tombs in the Valley of Dark Lords, or the caves nearby," Lyuran said. "Since there's no way in or out of the Valley except through the Academy, we assumed he would remain trapped there. Obviously, he's found a way out."

"There may be a tunnel to the surface in the shyrack cave complex," Dustil said. "No one's charted those caves fully that I know of. The tombs are all self-contained, so it's less likely that they would have passages out."

"I don't have _time_ for this," I growled. "Couldn't he have picked any other day to assault any other ship?!"

"Jorak Uln is insane," Lyuran said. "There's no way of knowing why he does what he does."

I began pacing the street, trying to come up with a plan. My resources were severely limited, and I didn't know exactly how far I could trust my new allies. I reached out again, tried to sense my team, but none of them had a strong Force presence. Juhani and Bastila were already out of reach, and Bindo and Sasha had been left, by whatever strange fate, safely behind on the _Ebon Hawk_.

No. Not strange fate.

Jorak Uln may be mad, but he had been the master of the Sith Academy before being driven out and replaced - not defeated and killed, it should be noted - by Uthar. Which meant he was a _strong_ Force-user.

I closed my eyes as I continued to pace, pulling the Force in around me, listening to the echoes. I'd never been the best at this form of tracking, and since my near-death this was the first time I had bothered to try. As expected, I was surrounded by a confusing whirl of impressions and sensation, little of which I could interpret. There were too many Sith on Korriban, too many people powerful in the Force, ripples and waves and _power_ so permeating the place it was like trying to track a sea ship by its wake through a maelstrom.

I released the power, tried reaching out with my senses again, but Jorak Uln and my companions were not within my meager range. I'd already tried in the father areas of Dreshdae, with the same lack of result.

I opened my eyes, whirled to face my three new apprentices.

"Alright, take me to the caves."


	57. Korriban: Part 6

The shyrack caves were twisting and deep, echoing with countless sounds through countless passages in every direction. Shyrack flew about everywhere. They screeched and hissed and tried to kill us without much success.

Though between my Force Lightning and Dustil's high strength at drain they proved little actual threat to us, my frustration only increased at every delay.

Did I really need Canderous, Mission, and Z? I could easily take my new group of recruits, replace the old crew completely. Let Jorak Uln do whatever crazy nonsense he wanted. It wasn't really my problem.

But they were _mine_. I cared about them, Force-sensitive or not, useful or not. And this Sith reject had no right to steal them from me.

The next group of shyrack we encountered ended up very well fried. Lightning flickered around me in a wide sphere that kept my followers to a distance, but that hardly bothered me. At each forking in the tunnels I tried to reach with the Force in case I could sense my crew or the presence of this Jorak Uln.

When I found him, he would pay for what he'd cost me. He dared to steal my crew, to waste my time, to interfere just as I was finally ready to set out on my true quest? Electricity sparked around me, discharging against the stone. I would destroy him.

Eventually, we reached a splintering of the paths and I sensed something. Faint, flickering, a pulse in the Force. Not the shyracks or tukata, a person, and a Force-sensitive one if I wasn't mistaken.

"This way," I whispered, and we approached cautiously.

It wasn't Jorak Uln or my captive companions. Just a group of runaways. I turned us aside, disappointed, and we continued the search in another direction.

The deeper into the shyrack caves we progressed, the more frequent became the attacks by tuk'ata and other beasts. On the other side of a chasm, I even noticed a rancor-like creature lumbering about. We gave that area a wide berth.

Finally, we arrived at what appeared to be a natural cave-in but which, Lyuran said, had been created deliberately very recently. Between the four of us, it was easy enough to clear away the stones with the Force, revealing a narrow and clearly lightsaber-carved tunnel leading deeper into the mountains.

We followed it in near-silence, the tight space necessitating a single-file advance. I took the lead, lightning crackling gently around my arm to provide light. The tunnel meandered first one way then another, but maintained a general direction. I couldn't have guessed where we were by then, the shyrack caves were far too twisting and complex for me to have kept track of even a fraction of the turns we'd made.

After a very long time, I began to hear voices and quieted my lightning to its smallest possible amount. We crept forward, the sounds slowly resolving themselves into understandable words.

"-another time, of course. . . if you survive that long." The speaker was wildly modulating his voice, flipping from deep to high with a manic undertone that left me in no doubt. That was Jorak Uln, the mad Sith outcast.

"I have no part in this absurd farce," protested a voice I knew only too well. Kareth. "If you would just release me-"

"No, no no no, _no_ no. Not yet, you're far too interesting, _Sa-ul._ " Uln stretched out the name mockingly. "Besides, it seems you are already acquainted with the Dark Side."

"I have served Lord Malak faithfully," Kareth began, but a crackling hiss of lightning snapped across his words. Kareth grunted, and I smirked. Uln wasn't trying very hard, it seemed. I could do better.

"Malak, Malak Malak, no! _I_ am the teacher here."

"I have told you, I am Lord Malak's admiral, I need no _teacher_."

"Everyone needs a teacher, Saul. And I am here, so what right have you to refuse me, hmm? Your master will join us soon enough, yes, then we'll _really_ have fun."

Uln fell silent, and Kareth didn't reply. I paused in the tunnel, hesitant to move much closer without their words to mask the sound of our movement. But there was no sound from the room ahead, no return of the conversation, no indication of movement or life.

I edged closer, slowly and quietly. Then something clicked under my foot and I stumbled, falling before I could catch myself. I pushed out with the Force and narrowly avoided smacking into the stone wall, but it was the best I could do to prevent injury.

A faint hissing sound was all that alerted me to the trap's nature. The gas wasn't visible in the faint lightning illumination, but I started to feel drowsy at once. Trapped in the dead-end of a narrow corridor as we were, there was nowhere to escape to, no chance for the gas to dissipate. I stumbled forward on my hands and knees, trying to get away and knowing it was too late.

The far end of the tunnel slid open with a faint grinding sound, and I was confronted with the sight of a tall, wild-looking man grinning maliciously down at me.

"And here she is," he cackled. His voice twisted mockingly. "The guest of the hour. Welcome, Lord Revan, to your first lesson."

If he said anything more, I didn't hear it as everything blurred and faded away to darkness.

* * *

"Well, well! Look at all these wonderful visitors you've brought me!"

Jorak Uln stood upon a sarcophagus, holding a two-ended sword by its blade like a staff to lean on, and grinning maniacally.

I couldn't move anything but my head, felt the pressure of the Force holding me in place. A quick glance around the room showed that Mekel, Dustil, and Lyuran were similarly incapacitated. The two men were awake, while Lyuran remained unconscious.

"You kidnapped my friends," I rasped, my throat dry. "I'm here to reclaim them."

"Of course you are!" Uln cackled madly. "That's why I took them, of course."

I frowned at him.

"Don't look so confused, Revan _dear_. How else was I going to get your attention, hmm? You're in such a hurry, I had to think of _something_."

"Why do you want my attention?"

"I want to join your little team, of course! That Malak needs a few lessons himself." He paused, but before I could speak he jumped in. "Ah, of course, that assumes that you win our little contest here. Otherwise, I'll just take your ship and fly, fly, fly to the distant stars and never be heard from again."

"What contest?" I wanted to sound firm and demanding, but it came out feebly.

"So glad you asked! Dustil, my boy, you remember how this works, don't you?"

Dustil growled something inarticulate, looking ill.

"Yes," Uln said fondly. "I see you remember well. Care to explain the procedure for our newcomers?"

"He'll test us by asking trick questions with no answers and torture us for not answering until only one of us is still alive," Dustil said weakly, with dull anger.

"A very succinct answer, you've learned _your_ lessons well," Uln said, cackling. "I almost wish you were going to survive this. But I think we all know who the winner shall be."

I strained my Force strength against the bonds holding me, but Uln was _strong_. Not just powerful, but disciplined and determined and focused. Everything a Sith master should be after a century of study and learning and fighting for his place.

And, apparently, completely mad.

"Are my friends alive?" I asked, sounding something close to firm this time.

"Yes, yes. Even the grumpy one. All safe, with my droids. I'll need them to fly my ship, hmm?"

"You're not getting your hands on _my_ ship," I said.

"If all I wanted was your ship, I'd have taken it already. No, I'm a teacher. And you are my pupils."

Lyuran groaned and squinted, her brow furrowed, and Uln cackled gleefully.

"Ah, our lesson can now begin! Any volunteers? Who wants to go first?"

"I will," Mekel said, though his voice was unsteady. "I can pass your test."

"I like your spirit, my boy. What was your name?"

"Mekel."

"Mekel," Uln repeated slowly. "Mek _ul_. Yes, you'll do fine. Very well, here is your question. You are the ruler of the Sith. Your apprentice has betrayed you, and the Jedi are coming to kill you. You have one minute left to live. Do you strike at the traitor? Or focus your attention on your enemies?"

Mekel considered a moment. "If the Jedi are strong enough to kill me, there's no point in charging out to face them. Better to destroy the traitor, face him in battle as Sith are meant to do."

Uln cackled. "If you must die, take him down with you, hmm? A fine answer." He smirked at me. "The _incorrect_ answer, of course, is to stand and watch it happen while doing _nothing_."

Without warning, lightning shot out from his hand and slammed into me. Held as I was by the Force stasis field, I couldn't duck aside or retaliate. The immobility had a strangely amplifying effect on the searing pain, as though my body's inability to react physically increased the lightning's touch.

It was nothing to Kareth's torture cage, shouldn't have even mattered to me after surviving that, but perhaps the _Leviathan_ left deeper cracks than I'd realized. My ability to handle pain seemed to have decreased, rather than improved.

Or, no. Not pain. _Helplessness_.

"Next, my Dustil. You were a particularly stubborn one, hmm? You are the leader of an Academy. One of your most promising students made the foolish mistake of befriending a much weaker pupil, and his performance is suffering for it. What do you do?"

"Formally assign him to instruct the weaker student, and ensure that he knows there will be no tolerance for his own continued decline."

Uln laughed. "No, no! That will only perpetuate weakness. If he's capable of teaching, his time shouldn't be wasted on someone of lesser talent. Wrong!"

Dustil gritted his teeth as the lightning crackled into him, but I could see the defiance in his eyes.

My team wasn't going to give up easily. But neither would we last indefinitely.

"Revan. You find yourself facing a rival Sith Lord of unknown abilities and objectives. He kidnaps several of your underlings and retreats into his own base, leaving an obvious trail for you to follow. What do you do?"

"I bring my remaining followers, work together, and destroy him."

I glanced meaningfully around the room, then pushed out with the Force at the bindings holding me.

"Hahahahaha! Wrong! You don't follow someone that strong into their own base! You lay an ambush and starve them out, or you bomb the place from a distance."

I was ready this time, but his lightning attack still left me gasping for breath. My attempt at breaking free faltered. My head was pounding, I was hungry and thirsty and weak, and that was without figuring for the aftereffects of the poison gas he'd used. I couldn't even guess what that may have done.

"Your turn, new girl. What's your name, then?"

"Lyuran," she answered.

"Lyuran. I've heard of you, but you never came to see me. Trying to skip out on your lessons, hmm?"

"Why have you heard of me?"

"I keep track of all my future and past students, wouldn't want anyone missing out on their most important trials. And here's your question. Your master is a fool, but a very strong one. Too strong for you to overthrow. You have a friend, who you believe you can trust, and a bit of information about your master's future plans such that you could lay an ambush. What do you do?"

Lyuran considered in silence.

"Come along, girl, we haven't all day. There's still a ship to catch for one of us."

"The question makes it sound like the answer is to to work with my friend to ambush our master, but you said I only believe I can trust him. Sharing information without a hold over him could be disastrous. But if my master is a fool, then he must have other enemies. I leak the information to them, without bringing my friend or myself into it at all, and stand back to see what happens. If my master wins, there will be other opportunities, and our enemies will be fewer. If they win, I'll have a chance to prove myself without a fool overshadowing me."

Uln cackled wildly at that, slamming his double-ended sword against the sarcophagus in mirth. "Ah, beautifully reasoned, Lyuran."

I wasn't fully expecting it this time. His blast of lightning snapped my calm and sent fury flooding through me.

"Stop this!" I snarled. "Is there any point to this?"

"I'm teaching you, and your weak students, what it means to be a true Sith. Now hold still and stop trying to break free. It won't work, you know, I've been punishing unruly pupils for longer than you've been alive."

"How did that fool at the Academy kick you out?" I demanded. "I beat him easily. If you're so much stronger than _me_. . ."

"Patience, Revan. I'm sure you'll figure it out in time. Now, back to you, Mekul. You discover a weapon capable of destroying a starship, no matter what its size, with a single hit. Your apprentice and your general are the only ones with you when you discover it. Its technology cannot be duplicated, and it is too unwieldy to affix to any ship besides the slow ancient sublight one it's already on. What do you do with it?"

"I leave my apprentice in charge of it, then go with my general to create a plan and lure my enemies to that area."

"Hahaha, wrong. Your apprentice has his own ambitions, and giving him control of such a powerful weapon is the worst answer you could possibly come up with! He'll destroy you as soon as your enemies. Hahaha."

He blasted Mekel with his lightning, then me as well. My own electrical shroud burst into existence at this; I had thought I understood the rules, but Uln seemed to follow nothing beyond whim.

But even my rage was insufficient to break free. Uln was far too strong for me, and my lightning crackled weakly in a sort of halo around me. Without my hands free to direct it, I couldn't even fight back.

"Pay attention, Revan," Uln said reprovingly. "These are for your instruction as well, so you shouldn't be so quick to growl and sparkle. Dustil, my boy. You are a commander in the Sith fleet. Your son is a weak fool, and while you are busy conquering the galaxy he runs away from home to join the Jedi. What do you do?"

Dustil growled incoherently.

"Come, don't take too long. . ."

"If he refuses to give his allegiance to the winning side, then he deserves what he gets," Dustil said bitterly. "I won't waste another thought on him."

"Ahaha, well done."

I strained uselessly against the Force holding me, but the next burst of lightning was just as implacable as the rest. Panic started to claw its way through me, frustration at the helplessness and pain and _how dare he?!_

"Revan. You have three commanders in your fleet, and you learn that one of them has betrayed you. You do not, however, know which one. What do you do?"

"Arrange a scenario where each of them believes themselves pivotal to victory, but in reality they're all equally unimportant. Watch my enemies' movements to see where they strike, and my commanders to see how they react. Then order the two faithful ones to pull back and let the third be destroyed in his own gambit."

"You make a lot of assumptions there, and your strategy is far too complicated to work. If your commanders thought their own position was essential, they'd hardly betray themselves _then_. No, your solution is flawed. Unworkable."

He reached out and drew life energy away from me, the change in tactics as stunning as the feeling of emptiness as my feeble lightning died. I was starting to tremble uncontrollably, existing weakness and poison and exhaustion and pain and _everything_ starting to pile up beyond bearing.

"Not to mention the difficulty in convincing three capable commanders that they were important in a basically pointless maneuver," Uln rambled on. "No, no. Lyuran, your turn again, aren't you pleased?"

She didn't look pleased.

"Wonderful. Hmm, now, you are a Sith Lord, serving in a combined force to destroy the Jedi Academy on a certain world. Your greatest rivals have come together, along with yourself and your allies, to see to it that this existential threat is wiped from the galaxy. Everything is going well, until you realize there's a flaw in the attack plan which a particularly cunning Jedi could exploit to split your forces and destroy half the force before you could retaliate. Those in danger include many rivals and several friends. What do you do?"

Lyuran considered.

"I correct the flaw and work to crush the Jedi. If my rivals didn't notice the weakness themselves, they will be easy enough to defeat in the future, and this is too important a mission to risk."

"Indeed? That isn't the answer I wanted, but your reasoning is compelling. . . hmm."

He reached and casually tore away more of my strength, leaving me dizzy and unsteady. If not for the Force bands holding me in place, I'd have collapsed.

Uln grinned at me. "Ah, finally making an impact, hmm? I should have started with this from the beginning. I spent too long discussing you with your _Saul_. Are you starting to comprehend the lesson here, Revan? You haven't much longer, at this rate. Think about it."

"Mekul. You are the strongest student at the Academy, and your master is behaving in an undignified manner and becoming too attached to those he teaches, including you. It is a weakness that will leave him vulnerable to others in the future, but for the moment you're tho only one who sees. What do you do?"

Mekel glanced at me, looking uneasy. "I would point out the flaw in his defences, and suggest that he be more wary in future."

"Bah, weakness! You are as sentimental as your master, and you'll both die together."

I nearly passed out as Uln firmly drew strength from me. Mekel swayed unsteadily under his attack, clearly unable to focus.

"Stop this," I pleaded, too weak to even pretend to be strong. "There's no purpose to this."

"There is! You're just too blind to see it. There is a very clear purpose to all this. Alas, I suspect you won't live to understand. You sometimes need to break yourself before someone else does it for you."

"No," I whispered, understanding suddenly flickering into my mind. "You're wrong."

"Oh? What's this? Some insight has come to you dear student? Do share with the class."

I stared at him as steadily as I could manage. "You're trying to imply that trusting others is always weakness, that I shouldn't care about those who follow me, that I should be as ready to betray them as they should be of me. But you're wrong. That's what's wrong with the Sith. That's why I left. Love and trust are not always weakness. Caring about others can be stronger than hating enemies. And strength combined is greater when we're not constantly looking over our shoulders for our friends to betray us!"

"Tsk, tsk, no." He shook his head, stalking toward me, each step clinking with that double-ended sword he held like a staff. "You've seen the lesson and completely ignored it. Ah, Revan, you always were a headstrong one. Very well, you fail. Your students may go, at least some of them have grasped the edges of the truth, I'm sure if they head back to the Academy they'll be able to make something of themselves in time."

I couldn't focus, my head pounding, dizziness assailing me in unsteady waves.

"Go on, run along. I'll just deal with your headstrong master here, and be on my way soon enough."

"No," Dustil said.

"I don't think so," Lyuran said.

"Let her go," Mekel said, firmly.

Uln cackled, and he reached into the air. "I could have killed you all, but you decide to revolt instead of accepting my mercy? Very well."

I felt what he was trying to do, building the connection through himself to each of us, prepared to drain away all our remaining strength and life. Everything seemed to slow. I closed my eyes to better see the connections, the lines of angry light binding us together, through him, and I reached through that connection and twisted it. Inverted it, retied it into another shape.

I couldn't describe what I'd done, couldn't have replicated it, but in that moment of sheer certainty - I was about to die along with everyone who followed me - I reversed the flow of energy even as Uln pulled far more strongly than he'd done so far.

His own attack turned inward along the reversal and he stumbled, disoriented. His hand slipped on the blade he held, slicing it open.

Before he could recover, the other three had rallied and combined their strength to blast him backward with a torrent of lightning.

His hold on my prison evaporated, and I collapsed to the floor. Free. The panic that had been threatening to drown me faded, leaving anger in its wake. I drew in on the Force, willing strength and speed back into my body, and stood.

"You have failed, Jorak Uln," I proclaimed, twisting Force around him to lift and compress. "Your test was a farce, and we have now proven that your philosophy is a lie."

He choked, but laughed. "Still missing the obvious," he gasped, grinning insolently. I pressed harder and he could no longer speak.

"Search the nearby rooms," I instructed. "My crew should be around here somewhere."

Uln tried to speak, but my Force grip on him was too tight. I had no interest in hearing what he might have to say. I channeled all my fear, all my frustration, all my anger at this pointless delay, and kept the crushing pressure firm against his every attempt at breaking free.

I held until the golden light faded from his eyes, until his presence in the Force dimmed and vanished, then let his feeble body crumple onto the stone floor.

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

 _Please be aware that the update schedule for ALL MY STORIES is being reduced due to the current rate becoming unsustainable. See my profile for the complete details. Ideally, Fall With Me would be exempt, especially since we're getting close to the end here, but I can't promise to maintain my current update rate.  
_

 _This chapter was way too much fun to write. I've always loved Jorak Uln's quest, he's such an interesting character, and it was great to 'test' my new additions to the cast a bit._


	58. Impact

There was no sign of Saul Kareth.

Canderous, Mission, and Z were locked in a room behind a puzzle door, which took Lyuran and Dustil only a few minutes to solve, but our prisoner was nowhere to be found.

I wanted to search tirelessly, hunt him down and recapture or kill him. Part of me urged to lash back at him, sure that he was my bitterest enemy and couldn't be allowed even so brief a freedom. He was the reason for all of this. His fault, everything bad that had happened to me, to my sisters.

But stronger still was the pull of Bastila and Juhani, the quiet sense of them being eroded moment by moment. Every minute I spent hunting Kareth was another minute Malak could be tearing them apart, reshaping them into something twisted and broken.

I couldn't afford any more delays. I already feared I may be too late.

* * *

We departed Korriban, following the dancing trail through the sky that the Star Maps indicated. Every move of it felt so familiar, but I couldn't have written it out from memory. I'd lost too much to the Jedi.

Lightning sparked around me at the thought. Their Order deserved to crumble, to be forgotten and cast down for what they did to me. If they hadn't tried to remake me, this couldn't have happened. I would have destroyed Malak long since, and the galaxy would be on its way back to prosperity.

Canderous and I worked to repair T3, who had been fried mostly superficially by Uln's attack. It helped take my mind off things, to have something to work on, and Canderous was unshakable. With everyone else I had to be the leader, in control, always having a plan. With him, I could be myself without trying to conceal my concerns or inner turmoil.

"Strength doesn't always mean the _lack_ of weakness," he said once, when I asked why. "It means overcoming it."

"Even for a Mandalorian?" I asked.

"Mandalorians are better at overcoming everything," Canderous said. "But there's nothing stopping you from learning. Mandalorians aren't born, we're made. All it takes is the right determination, the right mindset, and decades of intensive training. And I know you, Revan. You're stronger than you think."

"I don't know," I said playfully, "I think I'm pretty strong."

Canderous snorted. "Not to hear you tell it most times. You have more self-doubt than a room full of Troig."

"I have more gaps in my memory than a roomful of gizka, too," I replied with mock offense.

Canderous raised his eyebrows at one as it hopped by, croaking. "Of which we have plenty."

Tension receded, the laughter helping more than I'd have expected.

* * *

I spent some time training Mekel in the basics of Force control. He already had a good base in Sith techniques, but had a hard time implementing even the most basic Force powers when not in a particular mindset. For a self-taught new initiate, he had a surprisingly impressive array of powers.

Sasha sometimes joined us, though she was utterly inexperienced at using her Force abilities consciously, I thought the practice was good for her. She would be strong one day, and the sooner she started learning the better. Lyuran joined Mission in her care, and I encouraged her to lead Sasha toward her Force abilities.

Most Jedi students would have started long ago, but I hadn't the time nor experience to train a youngling from the beginning. I was much more used to dealing with adult Jedi and Sith, or at least those capable of controlling their power consciously. I couldn't begin to recall how to go about teaching the initial steps to an uninitiated girl.

Sasha's abilities were mostly instinctive and empathetic, she could read the _feel_ of people and sometimes sense the overwhelming ripples of Force that warned of great upheaval. But even lifting a datapad with the Force was beyond her ability at present.

Mekel and Dustil trained together sometimes as well, though Dustil seemed to feel such was beneath him and his temper ran as hot as his father's. It wasn't surprising to me that an Onasi would find the Dark Side appealing, though his eagerness to betray Malak continued to be a concern. After all, to much of the galaxy 'Revan and Malak' may as well be a single entity. Once we'd finished off my traitorous apprentice, would Dustil's loyalty hold?

Lyuran was the quiet, calculating, dangerous type of student. I could never quite tell what she was thinking. She spent so much time with Sasha that I hardly saw them except in each other's company.

My whole crew was so _young_. Canderous and I were the only adults, really. It was hard to consider taking them all into this life-or-death struggle against Malak, from which many of them may never return. But I knew that I alone wasn't enough. Bastila and Juhani needed me, needed _more_ than me.

 _What happened to my willingness to sacrifice for the greater cause?_ I wondered, as we flew on and on. _When did it become so hard?_

Was it the Jedi's interference? Or something that Revan had been all along? I may never know.

* * *

The path to the Star Forge meandered across the galaxy, taking a completely unintuitive route. It aligned only occasionally to major hyperspace routes, went past planets both inhabited and barren, and seemed almost like a tour of the galaxy more than a trip to a deadly war factory that ate stars for raw materials.

And it took days. Days upon days, even at the _Ebon Hawk_ 's top speeds, following that twisting dance of a route. Bastila's pain never lessened, though her scorn of me remained. She actively resisted our connection, tried to shut me out, and my every attempt to draw her into conversation was for nothing.

Whatever Malak was doing must be working. Even a strong girl like Bastila couldn't resist him forever.

* * *

Canderous and I finally got T3 back together, and apart from a few gaps in his memory he seemed back to normal. Dustil spent much of his time in his room - formerly Kareth's cell, formerly Juhani's room - brooding and practicing his Force abilities. I offered him a few tips, but mostly he seemed content to channel his annoyance into whatever form he chose at the time.

I couldn't reach Juhani at all. Our connection was so thin and tenuous, so new and untested, that it was a good day if I was able to sense that she existed. Words or even sensation were far beyond its capacity.

So when at long last we arrived outside a new planet, a blue-white world which had no designation on any star chart, well within the unknown regions outflung from the main galaxy, I felt the lurch of the _Ebon Hawk_ at the same moment recognition flooded over me.

Bastila and Juhani were _present_ , not just in the back of my mind, but nearby. Within the same solar system. I could see the Star Forge, latched onto Lehon's sun and drawing its light up.

"Lehon," I breathed, and then the _Ebon Hawk_ hit the disruption field. T3 beeped wildly as the controls lapsed, and everything dissolved into chaos. I rushed to the cockpit to help direct our descent, but the Lehon disruption field was much stronger than the _Ebon Hawk_.

It echoed and pulsed within the Force itself, not a mere gravitational or electronic disturbance that could be combated, stronger than a tractor beam and even more implacable. We came down at an angle, skidding across a beach toward a cliff.

The ship impacted. I was thrown forward, the _Ebon Hawk_ cutting starboard-first into the stone. Our shields had already flickered out, durasteel screeching and crumpling. I scrambled back unsteadily as the cockpit bent slightly in front of me, alarms blaring. T3 beeped frantically, but there was nothing more either of us could do.

Then we were still, embedded into the cliffside, the ship's sounds feebly trailing off to silence as power died. Emergency lights switched on, bringing illumination to the brief darkness.

How had I forgotten the disruption field?

T3 beeped, then played the incoming com message.

" _Ebon Hawk,_ this is _Korriban Heart_ , we've come down into the ocean."

I recognized the voice as Vendros Amil, one of the teachers from the Academy. I'd assigned him to command _Korriban Heart_ during our assault.

"Can we reply?" I asked T3. He replied that, of course I could, he was fully equipped with communication capabilities.

" _Korriban Heart_ , this is Revan. Is your ship damaged?"

"Scans report negative, though power and control seem to be deactivated," came the reply.

"There is a Force-powered disruption field protecting the system," I explained. "We'll need to deactivate it before we can take off."

"The girl is hiding again," Canderous said, entering the cockpit. He frowned around at the crumpled front and whistled slowly. "Guess we'll be staying here a while."

"We can exit, but the airlock isn't intended for underwater use," Vendros said.

"Get to shore and see if you can lift _Korriban Heart_ onto land," I instructed. "I'll join you as soon as I can. Revan out."

I turned to Canderous. "Can we lower the ramp?"

He shook his head. "Buried in the cliff."

"Alright. Have Mekel, Dustil, and Lyuran join me at once."

Canderous nodded and went to gather them.

"T3, can you reroute power to scan internal systems and see how much damage we actually have to deal with?"

T3 replied that it would be difficult, but he would calculate a high chance of success given time.

"Then do it."

* * *

Once my apprentices arrived, we combined our efforts to pulling the _Ebon Hawk_ free of the cliff. It took several minutes of deep meditation, but finally the ship slid free with a reverberating shriek of metal on stone. We hadn't landed evenly, so there was a short drop as the _Ebon Hawk_ fell to beach level, but thankfully the ramp mechanism wasn't damaged by either the drop or the collision.

We emerged, to see _Korriban Heart_ 's passengers gathering on the beach. They were all dripping wet. I joined in the effort to lift the ship free of the ocean, which had a considerably stronger resistance than the _Ebon Hawk_ had. The water clung, dragging, and _Korriban Heart_ was much larger, but together we pulled it free and slowly lifted it to dry ground.

A quick inspection revealed that it was in much better condition than _Ebon Hawk_ , having survived the landing completely intact. Its shields had held long enough to cushion its fall, and the ocean had slowed it enough that by the time it struck the bottom, its momentum was spent and the damage purely superficial. A few new scratches were the worst of it.

 _Fire Dust_ , though, had gone down farther inland. Smoke rose in thin wisps from that direction; not a promising sign.

I assigned half the _Korriban Heart_ contingent to go find out what happened to _Fire Dust_ and whether it would be salvageable, and the other half to repairing the _Ebon Hawk_ while I led a team to shut off the disruption field.

I had vague pieces of memory, nothing clear enough to guide me, but I was certain that if I searched the planet I'd find it eventually. The problem was that I had no idea what area of the planet the field would be projected from, and we may have crashed on the opposite side of the globe from it for all I knew. It had seemed to draw us inward, so that direction seemed the obvious place to start.

Dustil and Lyuran stayed behind with the repair teams and Mission elected to remain on the Ebon Hawk with Sasha, so my personal contingent consisted of Mekel and Canderous, along with two _Korriban Heart_ passengers. Dak, a former-Jedi with no particular allegiance to either side, and Kel - a doubting Sith who'd been all too eager to jump at my offer.

Their Force powers weren't particularly well developed, but as with all my Korriban recruits they had potential. I wasn't sure they'd be any help to me on this trip. But neither of them had mechanical skill so leaving them to help with repairs would be pointless, and I didn't want to send them off alone on an unknown, potentially hostile, world.

Besides, it would give me a chance to get to know them. Since my Revanite Sisterhood was built on quite different ideals than the Sith or the Jedi, the question of recruitment vs 'recruitment' was a potential problem that I should at least consider. Those who'd joined me because I demonstrated Sith strength might not be so eager to continue following my new path once I had done away with Malak and there was no longer a military incentive.

Whatever my intentions, reality quickly intervened.

Aside from the burning certainty that my Bastila and Juhani were near - so near, within the same star system, practically within reach, but untouchable for all that - the planet Lehon was, I'd forgotten, inhabited.


	59. Lehon: Part 1

Our first encounter with the native Rakata was when their raiding party attempted to capture me. We played along to find out where they were from, and they brought us before their leader - The One.

"At last you return to us, Revan. But our enemies live. What have you been doing all this time? Surely even the Elders were not stronger than your magics?"

"I had a plan, of course," I said, though I could recall no such thing. "There were complications. I require more information."

The surrounding Rakata seemed just as skeptical as their leader.

"You disappeared for several years," The One insisted. "And we find you wandering far from our enemies. Have you betrayed us? Forgotten our arrangement? Perhaps even allied yourself with the Elders?!"

"No, nothing of the sort," I said. "I was recruiting help." I gestured to my followers. "The Elders are. . . too strong for me to defeat alone."

The One regarded me dubiously.

"And I got lost trying to find them after so long," I added. "If you could send a guide to show us to your enemies, rest assured they will not survive the night."

This seemed to be what they wanted to hear, for the surrounding Rakata sent up a growling cheer. The One nodded and gestured for a scout to join us. "We dare not approach the enclave itself, but he will guide you to within sight of it. Do not fail us again, Revan."

"So, while I'm helping you all, I don't suppose you could help me a bit?" I tried to sound casual.

"We have already made our arrangements," The One insisted, squinting at me suspiciously. "Surely it has not been so long that you forgot our vow?"

"Our vow, of course," I said. "So once I kill the Elders for you, you'll. . ."

"You bring us their secrets and we will show you the way into the Temple of the Ancients, as we promised. _We_ do not forget our vows, Revan."

"I don't have any reason to doubt you," I agreed. "So, show us to your enemies, and we'll destroy them as promised."

Kel seemed a bit uneasy at this; though my companions couldn't understand the Rakata speech, they could hear me, and the timid Sith didn't seem entirely on board with killing.

Dak and Mekel, on the other hand, seemed eager to prove themselves.

Our Rakata scout led us inland to a pass overlooking a valley enclave, surrounded by an electrical field for protection. "We have never been able to get close," the scout informed me. "Their magics are nearly as fearsome as your own."

"Leave that to me," I assured him, leading my team down toward the target.

The electric field had a single opening, an entrance corridor that led in toward the gate, but only inactive partway along. I felt very vulnerable, stepping into that area which could so easily be turned into a kill box.

Before we reached the second layer of protection, though, a holographic Rakata appeared before us.

"Who are you?" it demanded.

"Revan," I replied, seeing no reason to lie.

"Revan! The Council wishes to speak with you. Enter."

The hologram vanished, as did the electric field blocking our way.

"They said I should come in," I said for the benefit of those who don't speak Rakatan.

"This feels like a trap," Mekel observed. "I don't trust them."

"How many of these tribes did you ally with in the past?" Dak asked.

I shrugged. "No idea. I don't remember any of them."

"But you can understand their language," Dak insisted. "It sounds like a corruption of Huttese at places, then wanders off into complete gibberish."

"It's a parent-tongue to many languages that are currently spoken," I explained. "The Rakata overlords once ruled the galaxy, and most sentient life were their slaves. That's also how so many species ended up on so many worlds, otherwise there wouldn't be nearly so much mixing on farflung worlds."

"Fascinating," Dak said, tapping notes into his datapad.

We entered the enclave, to be greeted by a trio of Rakata Elders standing imperiously to welcome us.

"Revan. Why have you come back here? We did not expect to see you again, after you betrayed us."

"Betrayed you once already, did I?" I inquired, casually flicking on my lightsabers. "Well, I didn't do a very thorough job, seeing as you're still alive."

"The Star Forge still devours our sun," said one of the Elders, though he regarded my weapons warily. "You promised to destroy it."

"Well, seems we have a conflict of interest, doesn't it? The One wants you dead, I want the Star Forge. And you. . . seem to be just an irritating obstacle."

The Rakata guards around the room readied their own weapons, glaring at us. My team activated their own lightsabers, the combined red glow lighting the entrance room crimson.

"You know The One cannot help you, Revan," said another of the Elder Council, apparently unwilling to resign the conversation. "You promised—"

"I've made quite a few promises here, it would seem," I interrupted, stepping forward, "yet I don't remember any of them. And I refuse to be bound by what someone _claims_ I promised. I'm far too close to hesitate now."

"If you still seek entrance to the Temple of the Ancients, we are the only ones who can aid you. The One knows nothing of—"

"But you'll only help me if I agree to _destroy_ the Star Forge, right?"

The Elders backed away from my steady advance, their guards looking increasingly uneasy. They moved closer, surrounding us, but apparently still waiting on word from their Council they didn't attack.

"I have no intention of destroying my greatest weapon," I said bluntly.

"So you reveal your true self at last." The Elder Rakata looked almost sad. He nodded to the warriors surrounding us. "Guards, destroy the evil in our midst."

They may have been technologically superior to their more primitive neighbors, but no Rakata were a match for us. Their inherent Force resistance made it _slightly_ more difficult than it might have been, but it still took only moments for us to annihilate their Council and guards.

The rest of the enclave fought back, but they were even less martially inclined than their leaders. We cleared room by room, searching for the device to let us control the defences. That was the most important thing to hold, in case they had other internal weapons hidden away that could actually harm us.

Then a wave of pure emotional triumph flooded through me, the echo so strong I faltered in my attack and nearly fell over. Bastila? What was she feeling triumphant about, and why did I get the uneasy feeling that something had changed very much not for the better?

I felt dizzy and ill for a moment, but my three followers were quite capable of completing the massacre without my help.

By the time I distanced myself from Bastila's overwhelming - almost mocking? - sense of triumph, the battle was over. We collected The One's scout and he led us in gathering the books and data they would need to get us into the Temple of the Ancients, as well as freeing several prisoners being held in a research lab.

We passed the Temple on the way, a huge pyramid with the disruption field flowing out from its peak.

It took much of the afternoon for The One's Rakata to assemble, decipher the texts, and prepare for some ritual keyed into Rakata genetics to allow access to the temple.

While they busied themselves with that, I left them to it and went to oversee the salvaging of _Fire Dust_.

Fere Ertan, _Fire Dust_ 's captain and owner, ranted unhappily about the damage, but it didn't look too bad to me. At least his ship had landed in trees, not smashed into a _cliff_.

"We'll be able to fly 'er again in a day or two," he said. "Not quite ready for distance travel yet. That crash messed 'er up good."

"Unacceptable." Bastila's triumph was fading now, to a distant sense of arrogant certainty, but she still rejected my every attempt to actually communicate. Something was very wrong. I needed to move, needed to reach her, needed to save her before it was too late.

Malak was a clear example of what happened when one sank too far into dark powers. We'd been friends, allies, and he'd betrayed me for nothing but a hope of more power. I would not stand by and watch that happen to Bastila. Or Juhani.

Anger brought my lightning flickering to life, and Ertan flinched back.

"I can't get 'er spaceworthy any sooner than tomorrow no matter what you say," he said. "And that would be dangerous for hyperspace, if I rushed it."

"We won't need hyperspace. Just enough to get us there." I pointed to the Star Forge, indicated only by a thin white line reaching off the sun.

 _I'm coming for you, Malak. I will take my sisters back._

"I'll have 'er ready tonight, then," Ertan said nervously. "Absolutely."

* * *

 _Ebon Hawk_ would not be flight-ready for days, if not weeks. It would fly, but the seams were compromised sufficiently that even a moment without the shields while in space would vacate all the air. If we were going into a combat situation, relying only on shields for survival would be beyond foolish.

I reluctantly decided to leave our faithful ship behind. We could pack our crew onto _Korriban Heart_ instead with _Fire Dust_ to fly escort and deal with any enemy fighters. _Korriban Heart_ had almost nothing in the way of weapons and far less maneuverability, but _Fire Dust_ was even smaller than the _Ebon Hawk_. I couldn't possibly fit enough people to assault the Star Forge in so small a ship.

Canderous offered to stay and help, which I authorized at once. The Mandalorian knew ships better than most of us, and the sooner _Fire Dust_ was spaceworthy the sooner we could finish this.

With repairs being undertaken as best we could manage, I took my team and headed back to the temple. The Rakata there were chanting, building something in the Force; a weirdly focused beam emanating from a heavy device they'd assembled before the temple gates. The focused power grew wider and taller as they chanted, the device slowly opening to release its power more and more strongly. Then, as the beam reached a diameter wide and tall enough to admit a human, one of the chanters nodded to me and gestured us forward.

It was a strange sensation, walking up to the temple through the beam of unreal energy, like a nullification of something I could hardly even sense distantly.

Once we crossed into the temple, the chanting cut off and we were enveloped in deep, heavy silence. The door slid closed behind us with a grinding sliding sound of stone scraping stone.

"What now?" Mekel asked, glancing down the three options of corridor for us to pursue.

"Stay together," I said. Even our quiet voices echoed through the vast darkness. The halls were lined with massive pillars, carved stone with patterns only hinted at by the faint light. Dust drifted freely, but the floors were relatively clear.

"I sense others here," Dak said.

"They are of no concern unless they stand in my way," I informed them. "Our goal is the disruption field generator and nothing else."

If Malak's supporters dared oppose me, I would destroy them. If they were willing to join me, I would not turn them away. Malak's time was over. If the fools weren't able to recognize that, they deserved their fate. I had no time to waste in convincing anyone.

Bastila and Juhani's loud presence pulsed through me, drawing me ever onward. The Star Forge, my two captive sisters, and Malak himself. . . all so near. Hope and fear and possibilities both good and bad. I had to move, didn't dare wait. Hesitation was dangerous, impossibly dangerous. I could lose everything.

And, part of me feared, I may have done so already without knowing it.

* * *

 _Author's Notes_ _:_

 _Short chapter, but we're getting near the end and I have a lot of conflicting ideas about how to wrap this up which I really need to sort out before proceeding. I may have been able to get away with making it up as I went along up until now, but at this point I really need to figure out what I want the conclusion to be. Therefore, I'm going to temporarily suspend updates until I've finished rough-drafting the entire conclusion, at which point I will resume posting every ten days as before._

 _I have several projects underway at present, but Fall With Me remains my highest priority until it's complete. I fully intend not to drop any of my existing stories, and FWM as my first longform fic is highly symbolic of that pledge, at least in my mind._

 _I'm anticipating somewhere in the range of three to seven chapters remaining at this point, which will wrap up Malak and the Star Forge arc. And in the meantime, thank you all so much. I really appreciate how many of you have stuck with this train-wreck of a story this long. I hope you can be patient with me just a few months longer. We're in the final stretch now. I am going to see this through all the way._


	60. Lehon: Part 2

The temple's layout was non-intuitive, built for Rakata sensibilities and not modern galactic convenience. It took nearly an hour to locate the control to open the sealed door, and we did encounter a great number of Malak's deluded followers along the way. Stronger than my Korriban contingent, more self-confident, and without any example of my superiority, they all elected to fight rather than join me.

I killed them all, and couldn't bother caring. We were so near, my sisters almost within reach.

But first we had to actually reach the Star Forge, and I was beginning to have doubts about that even once the Lehon planetary shield was down. _Korriban Heart_ was not maneuverable. It wasn't stealthy, and it wasn't particularly fast. Malak could easily just blast us out of the sky, he certainly had enough ships in the vicinity. The Star Forge continued churning them out without pause.

Anger, never far from the surface any more, flickered through me at that thought. It belonged to _me_. The Star Forge, the fleets, the armies, the _plan_ , the _future_. . . it all belonged to me. Malak was a vile usurper and deserved none of it.

Such were my thoughts as we climbed to the Temple's summit, as we emerged into the bright sunlight of the rooftop.

Someone stood waiting for us.

I didn't recognize her at first, the brightness casting her in silhouette against the white stone. Her hair wasn't tied up as it usually was, hanging loose over her shoulder now instead.

"Revan," she said, the familiar accent burning through my heart. Juhani sounded _almost_ like herself, but that only served to highlight the difference. "I have a proposal for you." Her voice was cold, firm, and arrogant, but detached. None of her usual fire.

 _Sister, what have they done to you?_

My mental plea wasn't acknowledged. Even with us standing so near, watching each other across the rooftop courtyard, there wasn't enough depth to our bond for that.

"I'm listening," I said, motioning for my companions to stay back. The last thing I wanted was for a fight to break out.

"Come with me," Juhani offered. "I have a light ship, and they do not believe it will carry any passengers. Together we will confront Malak and Bastila, cast them down, and rule in their stead. Leave these weak children behind. They do not matter beside your power and mine."

"What did they do to you?" I asked aloud. "My Juhani would argue with passion, not this. . ."

" _Your_ Juhani was weak," she replied, taking a single step toward me. "Your Juhani didn't understand the power of darkness, she thought the Dark Side was the same as being a failed Jedi. There is much which I know that _your_ Juhani never could have."

She tilted her head toward me. "And I know much that _you_ refuse to acknowledge. The fire that burns within me, for you is but a spark, constrained and locked within your heart by fear. You are no Jedi. You are no Sith. You walk a path of empty words, balancing on the edge of your own destruction. Embrace true power, before you are destroyed by it."

"This is wrong," I insisted. What did they do, how did they do this? Rage flared fully within me, the Force burning in readiness. This was Malak's doing. He would pay.

If I could have ripped the Star Forge from the sky, in that moment I would have. Giving no thought for my own future plans, I'd have crushed it and thrown it into the sun just to be rid of Malak for good.

"Yes," Juhani said, taking another step toward me. She held her hand out. "Come with me. We need no others. Together we will destroy Malak and cast down those who would call themselves Sith. Our power needs no such simple labels."

I glanced behind me at Mekel, Dak, and Kel. I thought of Canderous, Mission, Sasha, Z, Dustil, Lyuran. Everyone else I'd left behind to repair the ships and wait for my signal.

Even as part of me screamed that Juhani was wrong, that I needed to restrain her and bring her back with me now, another part calculated that my followers would be in far less danger here. That the _Korriban Heart_ was ill-suited to an assault, and that time was short. Juhani offered a very, very tempting alternative.

Rather than risk my young students before they could even begin to live, why not sneak up myself? Allow Juhani to think me on her side, take Malak out of the picture, then figure out what to do about her and Bastila—

Wait.

She said _Malak and Bastila_. Like they were a team. What was Bastila's sense of triumph I'd felt hours previous? Or was it _Malak's_?

"Bastila has joined Malak then?" I asked, my voice suddenly flat.

Juhani smiled, a cold thing that bore no resemblance at all to her usual smile. "So he thinks. She follows him, and I follow her. But they're wrong. Bastila will not pass up a chance to destroy him. The three of us together can cast him down. Then you and I can overthrow her when she tries to claim Malak's throne for herself."

This was wrong, so wrong.

"Why?" I demanded. "Why do you want to rule, why do you want to overthrow Bastila?"

"Because I know you're stronger than she is, and she's too arrogant and self-absorbed to see it. She deserves it. Someone has to show her she's wrong. There's no point having a weak leader who's too blind to see the truth. The strongest must rule. From the day you were strong enough to spare me in the grove with the certainty that I could never threaten you, I have always known that to be you. And you could be even more powerful if you just let go of your rules and restraints. They only hold you back."

I had no intention of hurting Bastila. She belonged to me, not as an enemy, as a friend. But it offered another way. Could Juhani, Bastila, and I defeat Malak by ourselves? Yes. Could we hold off the full might of the Star Forge at the same time? Probably not.

"So you would serve me instead of Malak or Bastila?" I asked.

"If you are willing to claim your rightful supremacy, then I will follow you as long as your strength remains."

 _And stab me in the back the moment it fails._ I'd thought it was hard losing her before, but seeing her so changed hurt even more. Yet there was nothing to do but continue on.

"Alright," I told her. "If you're serious about this, then I agree. If you will follow my plans and my lead, I'll come with you."

There was a flash of triumph in Juhani's eyes. She grinned, unsettlingly. "Then leave your playthings and come."

I took a breath, then nodded. "I must give them instructions first."

She leaned against the gateway into the next courtyard, where her small ship sat waiting. It wasn't meant for carrying passengers, and I'd be a cramped fit. But the chance at infiltration was too good to pass up.

Mekel regarded me, uneasy. Dak scowled, annoyed. Kel just looked terrified.

"Find the controls to deactivate the force fields," I instructed. "Get _Korriban Heart_ and _Fire Dust_ repaired and ready. If I haven't contacted you by then, work on having _Ebon Hawk_ spaceworthy. When I call, you won't have much time. I'll find a way to create an opening in the Star Forge's security for you to slip in without a fight. _Korriban Heart_ really isn't suited for space battle."

"Without you?" Mekel asked. "What if there are more of Malak's dark Jedi below? We won't stand a chance."

"You will," I told him. "You must. This is the most important thing any of us will ever do. Malak rampages without purpose, power clouding his mind beyond the reach of sense. _He must be stopped_ before all else. Remember your purpose, and you will not falter."

I took another step, made eye contact with them each in turn. "Mekel, you are untrained, but your strength is indisputable. Dak, you need to believe in yourself. And Kel, you need to believe in _me_. Hesitation is a luxury we can no longer afford."

They didn't appear entirely convinced, but I didn't have time for longer speeches.

"Kel, give me your com." He did so, and I concealed it within my robes. "Search this pinnacle thoroughly once we've gone. I think what we're looking for is nearby. It wasn't on the lower level, at least. I will be in contact."

I considered a moment, trying to remember if there was anything else I should do or say, but nothing came to mind. I nodded to my followers, attempted a reassuring smile and failed, then turned to join Juhani.

"I'm ready," I said, projecting confidence I did not feel.

Juhani smiled and turned to her ship. I followed.

* * *

 _Author's Notes :_

 _I plan to conclude Fall With Me on its 2-year anniversary; September 20. That gives me just over a month to write and submit the remaining chapters. I will post each chapter as I finish rather than trying to stick to any particular schedule, with that final goal in mind._


	61. Star Forge: Part 1

Juhani's ship was indeed small. Intended for only a pilot, it required considerable creative rearranging of the interior with our lightsabers before we could both squeeze in. But I had to hand it to her, this was the last thing anyone would expect.

Ostensibly, she was just making a routine check in with the dark Jedi training at the Lehon Temple. With Malak considering Bastila-and-Juhani as a single unit, and Bastila firmly under his command, he would have no reason to suspect her of having deeper loyalties.

Assuming what she told me was true.

I had to consider the possibility that this was a trick. She may have been sent to pretend this, to bring me back into an ambush. After all, Bastila would be able to sense me far more clearly than Juhani. If she was truly on Malak's side now, any secrecy Juhani or I attempted was already doomed.

I had to hope that she too wanted Malak overthrown, and knew she could never do so alone. Malak's greatest strength was his inherent personal resistance to Force attacks. Combined with his deadly skill with a lightsaber, he was practically unassailable. There was a reason I kept him around so long despite his personality flaws. He was incredibly powerful and capable as a fighter.

If only his arrogance hadn't consumed him. But he'd never really been all that sensible, even as a youth.

"Nearly there," Juhani whispered.

I lay wedged behind Juhani, in the space formerly occupied by the back of her pilot chair. Even with a cushion of Force pressing out to protect me from the various exposed wiring and sharp corners, it was a very uncomfortable position. Needless to say, I didn't have a great view of the windows.

I began to sense Bastila's presence. Close, so very close I experienced a brief flash of panic. This could be a trap. I couldn't be sure either way. My connection with Juhani was too weak to discern much beyond that she was near me and alive.

Bastila had been deliberately pulling away from me ever since I turned back from surrendering to power on Korriban. Between her distance through the bond and the Star Forge's interfering nature, I couldn't be sure of anything.

If Juhani, Bastila, and Malak had all conspired to kill me, I was dead. However strong I may be, I couldn't take on so many powerful Force wielders. Bastila and Juhani alone, I could probably defeat. Malak alone, it would be incredibly risky.

We landed in a quiet hangar. Despite my fears, there were no soldiers waiting to escort me away, no Malak to taunt and mock me. I couldn't feel his presence anywhere, the walls of the Star Forge acting in the same disruptive way as _Leviathan_.

The strangeness was stronger here, much stronger. From within the Star Forge, I felt as though the Force were being rerouted around me. Drawn from the air by the very walls and floors, drawn from _myself_ and Juhani as well. I could barely even sense Bastila any longer; she flickered in and out of my awareness.

The Star Forge was the pinnacle of Rakatan manufacture, converting stars and Force into ships and weapons and an endless army of droids. The ultimate factory.

My heart was jumping, unease setting me on edge.

The Star Forge whispered power, drawing away and pressing in by turns. That power was deeper than I dared go, a level of unity with the Force that threatened to dissolve self beneath external instinct.

I already skirted the very edge of my limits; on Korriban I'd very nearly lost myself completely. It was one thing to use the aggressive powers of the Force, another to allow them to become all-consuming as Malak had done.

As Bastila and Juhani had done?

Juhani helped me climb out of the cannibalized ship. I glanced back at it critically. In fitting me in we'd done enough damage that there was no chance of disguising it now.

"Someone could notice this." I closed the hatch, but the windows were transparent enough for that not to help.

"It doesn't matter," Juhani said impatiently. She pulled out her comlink and tapped in a rapid code. "We are here," she said quietly. "Where do you want us to meet?"

Bastila's voice replied almost at once. "Floor eighty-seven, fabricator room."

Relief hit me like a stunner. Hearing her voice — calm and strong, confident and unchanged, - was something I'd been completely unprepared for. I'd _known_ she was alive, felt her presence through the bond, but hearing physical proof of her safety broke through a fear that had been lingering unseen. I'd not quite dared to truly believe she was alright, afraid that there may be no Bastila left beneath whatever Malak had done.

But she sounded exactly like herself. Not like Juhani, whose edges felt blunted and her personality rewritten. Bastila was _fine._

And we were going to meet her.

I wasn't ready, somehow. Suddenly, it was as though she were a stranger. What could I say? If she had joined Malak, if she had surrendered her soul to power, what was there left to do?

No, I couldn't think like that. Juhani had implied Bastila was willing to act against Malak. That was a start. She hadn't been completely converted.

 _Unless this was a trap, after all._

I followed Juhani across the hangar to an elevator, then down stairs and sloping halls, across walkways suspended over the Star Forge's inner heart, up another elevator, and through more halls. At last we reached a small round room, lit by the wraparound console that surrounded three sides of the room.

Bastila stood before it, her lightsaber hanging at an intricate belt on flowing black robes. Her eyes were closed, a faint smile on her face.

"So you found her, Juhani," she said, her familiar voice again causing mixed feelings of uncertainty and hope and fear.

Juhani stepped ahead of me and knelt, bowed her head before Bastila. "Yes. It was as you predicted."

I started forward, but Bastila held up a hand.

"Relax, Revan. I have not brought you here to harm you. What Juhani told you was true. We need your help to cast out Malak."

She opened her eyes, cool grey staring out at me. My remaining concern eased, tension slipping away.

"So you want the three of us to take out Malak, like we were planning to from the beginning?"

"Of course," Bastila said. "I only agreed to go with him to find this place." She gestured around at the Star Forge, her expression softening to something warmer. Admiration? Wonder? "Its power is unbelievable, Revan. How did you ever fail with this at your command?"

"Because Malak betrayed me, obviously."

Bastila took a few steps forward, gestured impatiently. "Juhani, dear, you may rise. No need to stand on ceremony without Malak here to be impressed."

Juhani stood, then crossed the room and took her place at Bastila's side, a step behind like a bodyguard or attendant.

"Now," Bastila said, her voice becoming brisker, more business-like. "Do you have a plan for taking down Malak, or do we need more time to consider our approach?"

"I have a team on Lehon," I said. "They have a ship, but it isn't very combat-worthy. We need a way to distract any patrols from destroying it on approach. I have. . . twenty or so Sith from Korriban who agreed to help overthrow Malak."

Bastila considered a moment. "Yes, that can be done," she said. "I can guide the patrols away, distract those watching the monitors. Malak has showed me too many secrets of this place. He should have known better."

She laughed. I didn't.

"What is Malak doing these days?" I asked. "He's retreated from his assaults, just to come back and wait on the Star Forge?"

"He was working to convert Juhani and myself. We are more important to him than planets. My power, particularly, is beyond that of normal Jedi or Sith."

"Why do you serve him?" I pleaded.

"Because I am not strong enough to destroy him yet." Bastila answered, as though this were obvious. And, I suppose it should have been, were I thinking like a Sith.

"What made you so happy this morning?" I asked hesitantly.

"You. I felt you; living, using your power as you should. I have always known, Revan, that only you have the strength to stop Malak. Only you. But you insist on building these walls, holding yourself back, going just to the edge of victory and pulling back."

"You're wrong," I said. "And you know that's not how it is."

Bastila grinned. "Oh?"

"No," I insisted. "We have to be different. Have to be better than Malak and Kareth. Sinking to their level will only leave the galaxy a complete ruin."

"We _are_ different. You know it yourself; you may react with unstoppable force when enemies threaten us, but you have always held to your purpose. That is what Malak lacks, what you have. What I have. We see the purpose that shines through our power, not power as an end of itself."

I wanted to agree with her, because so much of what she said sounded _right_ to me. But I couldn't afford to give, I was already too close to the edge. If I started conceding points to someone who wanted me to embrace aggression and darkness I might never get out again.

How far was I willing to go? Could I possibly convince her to change her mind?

"What is _your_ purpose, then?" I asked. "What drives you, Bastila Shan, Second Sister of Revan?"

"I will show the galaxy the truth of the Jedi, the truth of the Sith, the truth of us all. I will no longer allow the Force to be mysterious. I will not allow these arrogant cults to direct the future of our strongest and most powerful potential any longer. Locking us into one of two paths was the greatest mistake the galaxy ever allowed. There is no Dark Side, no Light Side. They are merely lines drawn by those who use the Force. _They_ say that aggression is wrong and emotion is evil, or that only by following our deepest instinct can we become who we are meant to be. They are wrong."

And as Bastila spoke, I felt her vibrant fervor through our bond, resonating against my own beliefs which she so closely mirrored.

Did I dare to believe she meant it? The amount of time she'd spent with Malak concerned me, but that worry was not nearly as strong as the hope that flared stronger with every moment.

Together, the three of us. As we were meant to be.

Only, Juhani wasn't. Even if Bastila retained her self, Juhani seemed to have lost some essential spark during her captivity.

For the first time in weeks, I felt purposeless. The ceaseless drive that had been my sole focus was gone; Bastila and Juhani stood before me.

We were together. Yet somehow, I felt we'd never been farther apart.

And I didn't know where to begin. Would destroying Malak help? Or would his influence persist after his death? Was Juhani changed irrevocably? Was _Bastila_ , perhaps more subtly so?

My emotions were a turmoil, unsettled and unfocused. I felt unmoored, no longer anchored by purpose or by relationships. If my sisters were changed irrevocably, what then?

If Malak had won their hearts, would anything I did here matter?

Yes. It would. Stopping his madness was sufficient in itself. After all, there was little that could be done with a ruined galaxy. It was stretched to the fracturing point already, pressured too much by his invasion to be worth much even if it did surrender to his greater fleets.

And it wouldn't. The Jedi may be ignorant and careless, but they were stubborn. If there was one thing I knew, it was that conquering under the name 'Sith' was a recipe for resistance. Incredibly determined, unceasing resistance, from every Jedi or Jedi-ally anywhere.

I would do better. I would rebuild, reunite. I would offer another way, not just tear down and threaten and try to coerce. I would be a guide, not a threat.

A firm guide, yes. An unflinchingly strong and determined master. But the galaxy had been too disconnected for too long. It _needed_ some real unification. The Mandalorians had helped, in their way; united the galaxy in word if not in fact. My initial invasion - why, how? So much was still lost - had shifted the opinions farther. But away from us. We were too eager, pushed too fast, lay claim to titles and legacies without fully thinking through the consequences.

This time would be different.

And it started here.

"Then our paths align," I said, finally breaking the heavy silence. "Rejoin me, and I will see your dream become reality."

Bastila smiled coyly. She bowed, extravagantly as was her wont. "Of course, Lord Revan. Was there ever a doubt?"

"What did Malak do?" I asked, quietly.

"Showed us the true power of the Dark Side. Refused to let us deny it without at least understanding what we were refusing. And amid that power we found our own purpose."

"Juhani?" I asked.

"I follow you and Bastila," Juhani answered without hesitation. "Wherever you lead."

"She's quite determined," Bastila said, still smiling. "I'm impressed, actually. After all, I was at least already searching for the Dark Side."

I had a distinct memory of her grabbing me during a particularly intense argument when I had no control over my lightning aura, refusing to let go as my power seared into her while I desperately strained to bring it back under control. Yes, Malak would indeed have found her receptive to his particular style of teaching.

Juhani, though. . . she had _been_ changed.

I worried that, no matter what we did from here on, she might never be returned to what she'd been before. She might be lost to me, even as she followed me eagerly into battle.

* * *

 _Author's Notes :_

 _Finally getting this finale underway! I feel like it's taken way too long to hammer out these last few chapters, but we're into the home stretch! Two weeks from now, this story should be marked complete. My current plan is to post chapters on the 10th, 14th, 17th, and finally the 20th. After that, it'll be done until I'm ready to start Book Two, at which point I'll update this fic with a short epilogue._

 _It's hard to believe that it hasn't even been two years since I started writing fanfiction. It's become such a major part of my life, it feels like much longer. As always, thank you for reading!_


	62. Star Forge: Part 2

Juhani and Bastila kept me apprised of Malak's schedule so I could evade his notice. Bastila helped loop my communicator into a secure channel that Malak wouldn't be monitoring directly - one of many things he'd entrusted to her to manage for him.

The Star Forge kept my Force presence hidden from Malak so long as we maintained distance, but it necessitated moving frequently. Which was fine by me. I had no intention of getting comfortable on the station. I'd need its power, would gladly utilize it as a weapon and a base, but I didn't want to stay here longer than I had to.

Already, I could feel it pulling at my resolve, its power so strong and pure, heavy with aggression and the intent to rule. The Rakata station had its own alignment, and anyone staying too long within its influence would end up matching it. I'd seen it happen to Malak. I sensed its beginning in Juhani, beneath and above whatever Malak had done.

Bastila remained closed to me. I could feel her emotions, when they were particularly strong, but no longer read what they were. I could still find her, always without fail, but she spent nearly as much effort evading me as blocking me from reaching her mentally.

"Mekel, please tell me you have good news," I whispered into my comlink.

" _Fire Dust_ and _Korriban Heart_ are spaceworthy," Mekel reported. "Canderous has been performing final checks for the past few hours. We should be able to join you within the day if you command it."

"And the _Ebon Hawk_?"

There was a silence, during which I could vividly imagine Mekel's scowl, before he answered. "It could be slaved to the _Korriban Heart_ and used to transport cargo, but its seals are too badly compromised to carry passengers. Unless we closed off the entire fore of the ship, but even then, it would be risky."

"How are Mission and Sasha?" I asked.

"Doing well. Sasha was able to lift a small handful of sand with the Force this morning."

"Really?" I asked, impressed.

"Dustil and Lyuran are practicing with her. She's a natural. Very strong connection, able to sense things the rest of us can't." Mekel lowered his voice. "Some of those Rakata came by yesterday. None of us could understand them, but Sasha ran out to them and babbled some gibberish and they went away again without trouble."

"Good."

I paused to contemplate the situation before jumping into anything. I still couldn't _really_ fully trust Bastila or Juhani.

As much as I wanted to believe their loyalty to me held stronger than anything Malak or the Star Forge could do to influence them, I just had too much experience with betrayal to be capable of not considering every angle. And there was a more than good chance that one or both of them would ultimately choose Malak over myself. They might genuinely want him gone, but they might also want to engineer a trap to let Malak finally destroy me.

Did I dare risk my fledgling academy, my handful of followers, in what may be a suicidal attack?

This was their choice. They'd volunteered to come. I couldn't protect them forever, and if there was even the slightest chance that their contribution would be crucial to defeating Malak, it was my duty to allow it.

"In two hours there will be a gap in the patrols," I said quietly. "Bring Korriban Heart and Fire Dust in with everyone who is still willing to fight Malak's forces." Then I hesitated. "If you can, conveniently leave Mission and Sasha behind. They're too young for this."

"I understand," Mekel said. Hesitated. "I'm honestly feeling a little too young myself at the moment."

"No one has to come. Make sure that's clear. I won't think less of you for choosing to stay behind now. We could be able to do this without any of you, but. . . I'd really prefer to know I have backup."

"Understood. I'll relay your message to the others."

"Two hours. Watch for the opening. You'll be docking at the lower arm nearest Lehon itself. I'll make sure the exact docking coordinates are transmitted once you're clear of Lehon."

"Understood."

I waited a moment longer, trying to think if there was anything else that needed to be said.

"Tell Canderous. . ." I began, but found myself unsure of what I'd meant to say. Be careful? To a Mandalorian? "Tell him I hope he enjoys the show," I finished limply.

"I will," Mekel said, sounding only slightly confused.

"Good. Good luck.".

"May the Force be with us," Mekel replied, and I closed the connection.

* * *

Our plan was two-fold. Juhani would meet the contingent from Korriban, and lead them through lesser-used halls to join us. Bastila and I would wait in the control center, unless Malak came out to inspect anything at which point we would launch our attack immediately.

Juhani and the Korriban team would be primarily watching our backs; keeping Malak's Dark Jedi and the Star Forge's droids from interfering while Bastila and I brought down Malak himself. It wouldn't be easy, but I believed that between the two of us we could bring him down.

Malak certainly wasn't the sort of opponent where sheer numbers would be any use. If I brought all the half-trained Sith against him, he would simply cut them down as easily as I could.

Bastila carefully engineered the patrol gap for our team's infiltration window, and now she was meditating to prevent any Sith from stumbling upon the unlocked access to the landing bay.

How exactly her Battle Meditation allowed her to do something so specific was beyond me. If I'd paid more attention to the Jedi teaching on the subject as a student, perhaps it wouldn't have vanished so completely from my memory.

Then again, most things had vanished completely from my memory.

I paced, unable to contain my nervous energy.

Now that we were so close to the end, now that plans were in place and couldn't be changed, I felt all the possible failure points looming around us. There were a hundred ways this could fail. If Malak noticed us. If anyone at all noticed us, really. If the _Korriban Heart_ was seen, it could easily be shot down. Just like that, no more academy students.

Bastila sent a warm, calming sensation through our bond, startling in its intensity. _Peace, Revan. We will make this work, whatever comes. Relax._

And even in the midst of that, I could faintly sense her mind split off in a hundred different paths. Whispering to everyone on the Star Forge, despite the station's interfering effect. Whispering to patrol ships. Pushing them to fly just a little faster here, a little slower there, to look a certain direction a moment longer.

The sheer strength of her mind astounded me. For anyone to be able to manage so many disparate threads of mental effort at once was almost inconceivable to me. No wonder the Jedi wanted her so badly. No wonder Malak did.

With power like that, especially in combination with the Star Forge, we could be completely unstoppable.

I let myself relax into the calm of Bastila, the centeredness of her. And in that moment, I knew that whatever Malak had done to her, _this_ was who she remained. Juhani may have splintered under the strain, but Bastila never had. She'd wanted to know the Dark Side, and now she did. Now she had one more tool in her arsenal.

She hadn't surrendered to its allure. She'd taken it and made it her own.

I let my admiration for her become central to my mind, let her see just how much I respected and loved her, and I felt her own answering smile back. But faintly, her primary attention was diverted.

I realized that I'd stopped pacing some time ago. I sat cross-legged across from Bastila, calm and prepared. Whatever Malak could throw at us, we were ready.

"Something is wrong."

Bastila spoke quietly, but I felt sudden tension that threatened to overwhelm her.

"What is it?"

"Three of Malak's strongest subordinates have assembled, not far from where Juhani waits. If any of them sense her. . ."

I nodded. "Should I go take care of them?"

Bastila considered a moment, then gave a short laugh. "No. They are conspiring against Malak and myself. It seems they are displeased to have been passed over in favour of a captive Jedi as Malak's second."

"Will they be a problem?"

"Probably. But not right now. They are absorbed in themselves, not even trying to see beyond their own petty concerns."

Then she stiffened, sitting up straighter. "No, go back fool!" she hissed. She leapt to her feet. "Revan, come with me."

We ran through the Star Forge's halls, Bastila leading the way with the ease of familiarity. Some places felt familiar to me, but most were only the faintest impressions. If I'd been trying to navigate on my own, I'd have been quickly lost.

"What's wrong?"

"Juhani sensed them too," Bastila replied, "but she decided our cause would be best served by _attacking_ them. She's not strong enough to take on one of them, much less three!"

"Wait, what about the patrols?" I asked hastily. "Without you meditating-"

"This is more important," Bastila said. "If Juhani falls, if they are alerted and investigate, all is lost."

"I know, but can't you just direct me and keep meditating?"

Bastila regarded me flatly, and I had to admit she had a point. Without her in the lead, we would not be moving nearly as quickly.

Force strained around us as we moved faster than nature ever intended. I could feel it crackling through my body, through the space between us, through Bastila. The Star Forge blunted and magnified the Force in equal measure, making it feel stronger but more distant. If I took the time to study it, learned to understand the altered flow, I knew I could accomplish things here that would be impossible elsewhere.

For the moment it was of no use to me. There wasn't time to master the Star Forge before the _Korriban Heart_ and _Fire Dust_ arrived. And there certainly wasn't time before we reached Juhani.

Urgency pounded through Bastila, transmitting itself to me through our connection. We'd been nearly forty floors up from the point where Juhani waited in the docking bay. Elevators moved swiftly, but every moment standing still as we descended felt like too long.

Bastila took ramps whenever possible, the speed with which we could move in the Force outstripping any elevator. The Star Forge was not built for quickly getting around in, its elevators far from the sleek speed of Coruscanti or Correlian make.

Ten floors. Eight.

We drew nearer, and I finally began to sense Juhani's presence myself. Faintly, through the fledgling bond that had been initiated what felt like so long ago and never yet had the chance to grow strong.

Six floors. I sensed the trio of Sith. They were talking, not fighting. Relaxed. Juhani was angry, aggressive, but not yet engaged in violent conflict.

Three floors. One.

Bastila and I burst into the room. I had my sabers in hand, lightning crackling around me, ready to fight. The three Sith turned in surprise.

"See?!" Juhani exclaimed. "The true Sith Lord has returned to us! Join us. Malak will fall this day."

This was not what I expected.

Bastila crossed the distance between them and, before I could think to act, slapped Juhani firmly. "You risked everything, for this foolishness?" she hissed. "Do you realize what you've done, stupid child?"

Juhani stood defiant. "Revan has returned, to lead us to victory. The time for caution and concealment is over."

Malak's Dark Jedi backed a step away from us, expressions concealed behind their masks. They all held weapons ready, but didn't make a move to attack.

"Come," Juhani said, turning away from Bastila and back toward her audience. "Join us."

"No," Bastila said quietly. She ignited her own lightsaber, the blades still the sharp icy blue of the crystal I'd given her. I was glad to see she hadn't changed it.

Her action sparked a flurry of movement as all the dark Jedi ignited their own sabers in response.

"Wait!" Juhani tried to protest, but Bastila was already moving.

Bastila's lightsaber blazed and thrummed as she spun it around her body so closely I wondered how she managed not to singe her clothing. She smashed into the first Sith, blade clashing on blade, and knocked him back a full step despite him outweighing her by a considerable amount.

I leapt forward to back her up, blasting out with lightning that failed to take the other Sith off guard. Their buffer of Force shielding absorbed my attack harmlessly.

"Stop fighting and join us!" Juhani called out, but no one was listening. And I wasn't about to let Bastila face them alone, especially not now when we'd been so recently reunited.

"Sorry, Juhani," I said. "Nice idea, but I'm with Bastila on this one." If they saw the slightest opening to kill me, they'd be up for all kinds of promotions with Malak. The risk was too great.

One enemy disengaged from Bastila and chose to run, clearly sensing how overmatched they were.

"Juhani, stop him," I ordered. She hissed in irritation, but rushed after the fleeing Sith.

Two on two. They didn't stand a chance. Between Bastila and myself, we took them down in half a minute. The moment the second fell, Bastila motioned me to follow Juhani, seating herself on the floor.

I nodded in understanding; she had been interrupted at her Battle Meditation, and if this attack was going to succeed she'd need to get back to it immediately.

I ran after Juhani and the last Dark Jedi, but they had a good lead on me. He hadn't turned to fight, instead choosing to flee with all his strength.

"Stop!" Juhani's voice rang out ahead of me. Echoing, in a large open space. "You don't have to do this."

I opened the last door and stumbled to a halt. The room ahead was actually a vast open space, like many we'd traversed in our rush to get down here, crossed and re-crossed with catwalks and sloping ramps. Juhani stood with her back to me, just where the ramp started to head downward. Above her and a bit to the left, on a higher crosswalk, stood our quarry.

"I'm not getting in between two Dark Lords, alright?" The voice startled me; a woman's voice. Between the mask and robes, I hadn't realized. She jumped to another, higher ramp. "I don't need that kind of trouble."

"Don't go," Juhani said, and her voice sounded more genuine than I'd heard at any point since reaching Lehon. Her accent was stronger, emotion clear despite her attempts to sound firm. "Please."

The woman hesitated, about to jump again, but tilted her head to look down at Juhani instead. I couldn't make out her expression from so far, even if she hadn't been wearing a mask.

"Sorry, Juhani. It's not worth it. I joined Malak for power, not to throw myself suicidally between him and a challenger. He already beat Revan once. Give up on her, come with me."

"I would never abandon Revan," Juhani hissed. "Go, then. Coward."

The Sith jumped again, vanishing from sight into the distant height. "Better coward than dead," her voice drifted back faintly, then she was gone.

Juhani spun around, and saw me standing in the doorway.

"Who was she?" I asked.

"No one of consequence," Juhani spat. She flicked her lightsaber on, slashed it against the door viciously, then deactivated it just as abruptly. "She is nothing."

"You don't go out of your way to recruit someone for nothing."

"You saw her," Juhani growled. "She chose. I chose different. That's it. It's over."

She stalked back toward where Bastila waited, and I fell into step beside her. For a long moment, I sensed only raging fury from her, but as we walked she began to relax. The rage was quieted, tamed into something sharper, something she could use if we had to fight again.

By the time we reached Bastila, she was cold and composed once again. But her outburst had helped reassure me that at least some of Juhani remained herself. Whatever had been done to here these weeks as a prisoner, it hadn't completely erased her fiery core self.

For the first time in a long while, I began to actually believe that we could all get through this together. That nothing had to change. That friendship and loyalty could, in the end, prove stronger than Malak's manipulations.

Because unless I was mistaken, I'd just seen Juhani trying to recruit someone she actually cared about to my side. And yet, when the choice was to leave together or stay alone, she chose to stay. She did remember me, did still care. Despite everything I'd done, and everything Malak had done, she still chose to stay.


	63. Star Forge: Part 3

"I sent them back."

I frowned. Bastila wasn't meditating where I'd left her. She'd crossed to a window and was looking out over the Star Forge's inner workings.

After her flash of fury earlier, I'd have expected her to still be at least a little upset, but she sounded calm and collected.

"Sent who?" I asked.

"Your academy. The disruption was at just the wrong time. If I let them approach, they'd have been destroyed."

She didn't turn to face me. I watched her reflection in the window, faint and unclear.

"When's the next opening?" I asked.

"You don't need them. They were only ever to be used in case Juhani and I had truly turned to Malak's side. You have us, and need nothing more."

"Malak has the entire strength of the Star Forge at his command," I said slowly. "He can throw an army of droids against us until he dies of old age. We need them."

"No, you don't. Juhani can hold an elevator against _droids_. You and I can defeat Malak."

I glanced at Juhani. Objectively speaking, she was weaker than myself or Bastila. In a fight against Malak, she may well be a liability. If he could hold her hostage against us, we'd be faced with an impossible situation.

"Alright," I said, though knowing there was no more backup coming made me feel anxious. "When do we go?"

"Now. If we aren't waiting on ships, there is no point in delay. The longer we wait, the higher the chance _someone_ discovers us."

She glanced at Juhani. Juhani looked away.

"Alright," I said, though my mouth felt suddenly dry. "Let's go kill my wayward apprentice and end this."

* * *

"It's over, Malak," I said, stepping from the elevator. My purple and red-gold sabers cast their light across the floor.

Here more than ever before, I felt the weight of the Star Forge around us pressing, grasping, twisting. Like the Leviathan, it seemed almost a live thing trapped in metal and screaming for freedom, but with an added note of desperation twined into it in this place.

Malak paced the center of the wide, circular room, but he looked up as I announced myself.

"Revan," he said, the words rasping through his artificial jaw. "I hadn't anticipated you being such a fool."

"You are the fool," Bastila said, stepping out from the elevator's shadow to stand beside me. "You thought that power was enough to bind me to your cause, but you forgot that you are far from the only one who can offer _that_."

Malak laughed, a harsh metallic sound. "My dear Bastila, did you ever imagine for a moment that I cared whose side you chose? I was only ever going to be a stepping stone in your destiny. The same as Revan, as I'm sure you've realized."

"You're wrong," I told him firmly. "Bastila and I are connected in ways you couldn't fathom, and that is why we will never be separated again."

"Never separated?" Malak asked, his voice slow and taunting. "I wonder, where is the Cathar? I do recall her and Bastila being so difficult to pry apart."

"She is below, fighting off your army of pathetic droids," Bastila said. "In a fight such as this she would be only a hindrance."

"Interesting," Malak said. "So Revan has finally allowed herself to judge her followers by their merits and abilities rather than her emotions? Congratulations, my _former_ master. You begin at last to overcome your weaknesses."

Bastila and I stepped forward down the ramp toward him, moving together without thought.

"Love is no weakness," I told him. "Friendship is not weakness. Or have you forgotten what we once were to each other?"

"I was weak once, yes," Malak said. He stopped pacing at last, spun to face us properly, his cloak flaring behind him. "I was young and foolish and failed to understand the most basic truth of all. _Only one can stand at the very top._ You could no more stand beside me in truth than your Xari could have stood beside you. Always there must be a single power, a single mind, a single vision. And I think we both know your time has passed, Revan. Even the one standing beside you knows that."

Bastila laughed at him, and I smiled.

"You forget all the time we _did_ work together, Malak," I said. "You forget the—"

"I forget nothing," Malak snapped, his metallic voice vibrating harshly. "Those 'grand old days of conquest' were all while _you_ held the power, while _you_ stood at the pinnacle and I a step below you. When I tried to truly stand beside you, what did you say? Of course old friend, let us work together? No. You said it was your plan, that _you_ knew best. And while _certainly_ you would take my input into account, I knew and you knew that was merely lipservice."

I did not respond that Malak had ever wanted more than he could hold, and that to be my trusted second was far more than he'd ever deserved. He was strong, yes, and capable well beyond most other Jedi of our year. But competence and strength were not enough to stand as my equal.

"You sound like a bitter child," I said. "Did you never consider how you could _earn_ a place of true equality beside me? Or did your mind immediately rush to betrayal?"

Malak laughed. "As though you could ever believe another equal to yourself. Admit it, Revan. You have always been unwilling to follow. You disobeyed the Jedi. You disobeyed the Sith. You disobeyed _your own plans_ at a whim. You are not content to do as you're told, no matter who is trying to instruct or guide you. That is _dangerous_ , Revan. Dangerous in a leader more so. Do you know what I have done in your absence?"

I wanted to attack, to destroy him once and for all, but he had always been the stronger of us in direct conflict. Even with Bastila beside me, I hesitated to break the standoff.

It would be better if we could force him into making the first move. How fortunate, then, that so many grievances lay between us.

"You made a mess of the galaxy _I_ was trying to save," I retorted.

Malak laughed harshly. "Save? Is that what you like to pretend? That Darth Revan, Lord of the Sith, could _ever_ become a _hero_?"

"Revan _is_ a hero," Bastila retorted, stepping ahead of me. We stood at the end of the entry ramp, within three strides of Malak, and yet she showed only defiance.

Pride in her strength flowed through me, through our bond, and I felt her amusement in return.

"It's not about being a hero. It's because the galaxy is falling apart. It's a complete mess, and you're only making things worse."

"Of course I am!" Malak sounded amused. "Is it so hard for you to believe someone else could have a plan? Do you imagine that I am striking at random, destroying planets upon a whim? Do you know what exactly I've been doing all this time you were away from public notice?"

"Breaking pieces of the Republic that _I need_ for my new galaxy!"

"No, Revan. It is far more than that. I was breaking _the Republic_. You see, your method lacks integrity. You would force the Republic into a weakened and submissive state, then accept their abject surrender and rebuild around that preserved core?"

He laughed harshly. "You have never understood. That would leave you with a galaxy in revolt. You would be faced with one upstart _hero_ after another, swearing to bring you down. The Jedi will not stand by forever, as you and I proved. Another would come, eventually, who could match you cunning for cunning and blade for blade, and _you would fall_."

"I can deal with a few upstart Jedi," I insisted.

"But not with entire planets supporting them, hiding them, supplying their secret fleets. You would face a guerrilla campaign of an unprecedented scale. The Jedi understand subtlety, Revan, as I know I never have. But I have always had a clear understanding of _what people are capable of_."

"Yes," I replied, "while I'm the one who knows how to use that knowledge."

"No, Revan. You are as flawed as ever. You have never been willing to go far enough. Not in conquest, and not in yourself. You think you can hold back a part of your precious Republic, as though those torn from power would be content to live under you. You think you can hold back part of your soul from the darkness and still defeat me. Even your lovely Bastila knows better."

Anger flickered through me. "Those two things are not analogous."

"Aren't they? You see, Revan, _I_ understand what the Rakata saw and you have never been able to grasp. _People are stupid_. They are ignorant fools, determined to forge their own way despite anything and everything that may try to guide them. You act as though a sufficient demonstration of your intent and careful application of force will be enough to convince everyone that _of course_ your plan is the best. But you're wrong. They won't follow your lead, or my lead, or _her_ lead, unless we _make_ them do so. They won't settle down under your rule, however benevolent you may believe yourself, because they don't _want_ to be ruled. Each pathetic sentient on each pathetic world thinks they _know better_."

"So you plan to, what, enslave the entire galaxy?" I demanded.

"Yes," Malak said. "I don't need to dance around reality and try to paint it in the best shade for myself to appear right. I am perfectly willing to take _what is_ and make it conform to my will. That is where you fail, Revan. Trying to conform yourself to some ever-shifting ideal you invent in your mind, rather than simply _taking_."

I laughed, harshly. "And _your_ way won't create uprisings and revolts, or a galaxy united by hatred and fear?"

"It will," Malak said, unconcerned. "And I will crush them. Again and again, as long as they dare oppose me, until I have made plain to every idiot in the galaxy that it is suicide to fight back."

He gestured around at the Star Forge. "After all, while I stand here I am unassailable. I will never be short of droids, or of ships. The galaxy is hardly short of stars. I will never be overthrown, because I stand in a place of absolute power. I need only continue to demonstrate it until none dares to oppose me. _Then_ I will look to rebuilding."

"You are not unassailable," I said with absolute confidence. "I'm here to prove it."

"Of course, Revan. You are welcome to try. Bastila, dear, you really ought to leave now while you have the chance."

Malak laughed, the metallic sound harsh and rasping. "I would even allow you to rejoin me, once my former master is dead. I need not hold a grudge against your ambition. I understand it completely."

"You understand nothing," Bastila retorted. "You are a fool and a coward."

Lightning hissed into existence around Bastila, different from my own; pale blue instead of purple, sharper and thinner, moving dizzily fast up and down through the air before her.

"I am disappointed," Malak said, "but not surprised. You will change your mind in time. There is nowhere for you to run. Once I've destroyed Revan, I'll find you sooner or later."

"I'm not going to run or hide." Bastila took another step forward so she stood beside and a little ahead of me. She ignited her lightsaber, the ice-blue blades unforgiving, pale and cold, a perfect match to her lightning.

Malak laughed, a harsh sound without even a trace of humor. "Then come, fools. Let us end this."

He ignited his saber, the crimson blade that seemed so common in anyone else's hand looking dangerous and empowered in his.

I had too many memories of that blade - though not true memories, mere impressions - too many sparring matches that ended with my own failure at his hand.

I could swing a saber as well as the next Jedi, but Malak's mastery of the forms was legendary.

My own protective shroud of lightning sprang up, and I didn't try to bring it under control. For this fight, I couldn't afford to divide my attention the slightest bit. Even a moment of lost concentration could be fatal.

My lightsabers hummed through the air as Bastila and I charged in near-perfect sync.

We split up, moving to get around Malak and pin him between us, but he read our plan with ease. He charged me, ignoring Bastila completely, and I felt the shimmer of his protective Force shell as he neared.

My lightning lashed out, only to splash against him without effect. And he was _fast_. I'd somehow managed to forget, thinking of him as big, dumb, slow. He struck in nearly the same moment as my lightning, his superior height and reach forcing me to hastily bring up my sabers and back away to avoid being immediately skewered.

He was using a more aggressive form than I expected of him, with less care to defence, but that hardly mattered. Bastila flung her lightsaber at his back, but even as I blocked his first strike he was already twisting, flowing into a sideways motion that let him harmlessly deflect her whirling cyan blades.

Malak laughed and continued the turn, slashing his saber against my own.

"You should not have brought the child into this," he taunted as he pushed me back. One step, two, his blows too strong and fast for me to strike back. "I had planned to train her as your replacement by my side, but now I see she is too fickle and headstrong. Too much like you. She will have to die. Eventually."

I'd allowed myself to be put on the defencive, blocking and retreating, unable to attack. But Malak's words and laughter sparked something deeper than mere irritation. I already had many reasons to want Malak dead, but now I truly wanted to destroy him, to tear him apart and finally put an end to this perpetual fear.

"I will protect her from you," I growled, my lightning intensifying. I tried to grab Malak in crushing Force, but the attack dissipated against his infuriatingly impenetrable aura of Force resistance.

 _But not truly impenetrable._

I just needed enough power. I'd seen him lose sparring matches, though very very rarely, against opponents who used high-strength Force pushes or pulling to great effect.

I screamed at him, pressing Force into my voice, but that had never been one of my strongest abilities. It was less powerful even than a simple push, and much less effective.

And still, Malak laughed.

He fought well, spinning and clashing and dodging seemingly without effort. He seemed almost to be toying with us, keeping us apart, leaping between us, pushing us back any time we tried to maneuver together. Keeping us separate prevented our bond from providing any advantage. He was simply too strong and fast for us to pin him down.

Each of us on our own, neither Bastila nor I could get close enough to strike. Any time we thought he'd left an opening it proved false and Malak retaliated with brutal efficiency.

If not for the Force, constantly flowing through and between us, warning us of Malak's movements and urging us to duck at the right moments, Bastila and I would have been dead a dozen times over.

I deflected another attack, using my crossed sabers to catch and redirect Malak's blade. Still he laughed.

He was too fast, I just couldn't get a strike in. Not with the Force, not with my sabers.

I needed something more. This wasn't enough.

 _[You walk a path of empty words,_ Juhani had said atop the temple _, balancing on the edge of your own destruction. Embrace true power, before you are destroyed by it.]_

Was that true? Was I holding myself back? Or could this be something the Jedi had done?

I had no time to contemplate. Malak turned from me and charged at Bastila.

I felt a shudder of deep foreboding, a warning that this was no longer a game.

I drew in a deep breath, then flung myself into the Force. I pushed aside restraint, ignored caution, silenced the voice that wanted me to hold back. Speed and power rushed through me, and Malak's movements seemed to slow as I shouted her name.

The world shone, Force limning every surface.

My attention immediately focused on the tanks that lined the upper tier of the room, each blazing like a beacon in the Force, as light drained through them in a constant trickle. Into Malak. Some even felt familiar to me, vaguely, distantly, as though I'd felt their presence before.

I disregarded the thought. They meant nothing. My only thought was to save Bastila.

Malak's saber fell slowly, Bastila's hair flew behind her as she tried to duck away, her brilliant ice-blue saber spinning slowly through the air.

It wouldn't be enough. I felt the Force warning me, warning her, _too slow_.

She was about to die. I was too far away to interpose myself between them. If I threw my saber it couldn't reach on time, and would be more likely to hit Bastila than to deflect Malak's attack.

I drew together every bit of Force energy I could reach into a tight fist, built it up around Malak, pressing in around him. I reached out to the tanks around the room, seized their power outflow and forcefully redirected it toward my own Force construct. They gave no resistance.

I was moving so fast, my breath racing impossibly, yet still Malak's blade fell. Inevitable. Inexorable.

"NO!" I screamed, desperation pushing me to the very edge of control. I grasped for power, any power, directed even the Force sustaining my speed into the attack instead.

It was my one chance, my only chance.

 _Bastila's_ only chance.

The power crashed in around Malak, and even he was not completely immune. It would have instantly destroyed a lesser foe, and it was enough to redirect his attack. His hand was pressed back toward his own chest.

Malak deactivated his blade just before it reached him, Bastila stepped free and moved to counter-strike, and he broke free of my Force grip. His saber reactivated with a hiss, clashing against Bastila's attack.

All that, and he broke free almost immediately. I felt weary, the strain dragging me back into mundane reality. My lightning shroud was gone, my speed evaporated, every bit of Force at my command had been compressed into that attack. And it wasn't enough.

There was nothing left to do, nothing I could try that would be stronger. I could see no way out. No path to victory. We were simply, completely, unmistakably outmatched.

"You will never be able to touch me," Malak said, casually raising a hand to choke Bastila. She struggled, her Force energy flaring, but Malak was just too strong.

"No," I growled. I pulled myself back into the flow of the Force, letting its power compensate for my physical and mental exhaustion. I didn't hesitate, but charged at Malak's back, throwing both sabers out ahead of me. Malak turned to block them, releasing Bastila, and she fell to the ground gasping for breath.

"YOU WILL NOT HURT HER!" I screamed, lightning flashing into existence around me. I yanked hard on my sabers' hilts with the Force, bringing them abruptly back to my hands well short of reaching Malak. He'd been moving to block them, so I ducked and slashed from another angle.

He moved, recovered too fast, and my attack simply slid off his saber as he blocked.

I drew in on the Force, on the Star Forge itself, on the tanks that lined the balconies. On Bastila, and the resonance that lay between us. Gold flickered in and out of my vision, warning that I was dangerously close to losing control. Malak would not be defeated by blind fury. I drew away from the edge, holding as much power as I could, letting it flow through me, urging it to action.

Malak was still faster. Still stronger. He laughed as he fought. "Too little, too late, Revan."

"You're wrong," Bastila said, rising to her feet with a fluidity that seemed at odds with how recently she was choking and gasping for breath.

I felt her drawing on the Force, on the bond between us, and pushing power back through it. I did the same, mirroring her, merging my strength to hers. Like an echo chamber, our power only redoubled as we focused it through each other.

No longer _nearly_ in sync, we moved as one. Completely, perfectly unified in purpose and strength.

We attacked.


	64. Star Forge: Part 4

Connected as deeply to Bastila as I was, I could sense the network of Force connections that spun out from her in a dizzying myriad of mental threads. A faint memory brushed at my subconscious, somewhere I'd seen this sort of mental power before, but it faded almost as fast as it appeared.

Through Bastila, I could feel the connection to the Star Forge that she'd developed during her captivity and subsequent service under Malak. I could sense Malak himself, connected to the Star Forge in a way beyond anything I'd ever felt. As strongly as Bastila and myself were connected. More so, even.

Malak's bond to the Star Forge was faceted, branching through its corridors and between its particles and twisting back onto itself and through him and the isolated power tanks that lined the walls and balcony. Again, as I noticed the tanks faint recognition tried to flicker through me, but it was too vague and distant for me to quite grasp.

This flash of understanding took barely a split-second, the breath between one blow and the next, between lightsaber and lightning.

But within that moment, I also sensed just how well balanced we were. Bastila and I, Malak and the Star Forge. No wonder he'd seemed so unassailable before; he was drawing on the station's power the entire time, resonating with it in the same way that Bastila and I strengethened each other's Force abilities.

Even now, it was barely enough. The flow of battle continued its frenetic pace. I attacked, Malak attacked, Bastila attacked, the Force flowing around and through and between us all.

Advantage swayed between us and Malak and back again, but never enough to be decisive. The Force was too good at keeping us alive. In our heightened state of awareness and connection, even physical exhaustion seemed beneath consideration.

Everything balanced as it was, this fight could go on for hours. I had to find a way to break the stalemate.

The Star Forge was a true marvel, fire and steel drawing into itself a connection to the very cosmic Force itself, through the star it slowly consumed. It was that connection, twisted and warped though it may be, that made the Star Forge practically a living entity. And how it provided Malak so much sheer power. But Malak's connection to the Star Forge was too strong to sever, even if we hadn't been distracted by fighting for our lives at the same time.

Malak's connection couldn't be broken. But could Bastila's be strengthened?

The idea shot between us, fast as thought, and she gave me a mental nod. _Worth a try._

Malak and the Star Forge may be united against us, but the Star Forge despite its great power was not truly a person. It was set in its state. Great vast power, but no will, no mind, no soul. It could neither increase nor learn, could not make its own decisions, could not grow, could not change.

Bastila and I could. And we did.

I took the lead in the fight as Bastila fed Force through me, letting me step forward to engage Malak in a furious lightsaber exchange while she fell back behind me, diving into the Force.

As she connected more strongly to the Star Forge she became. . . not more separate from me, but more distant. Our connection remained just as strong, just as powerful, but her presence was less vibrant, less clear in my thoughts.

It did nothing to impact my ability in fighting. For the first time, one-to-one, I felt I could hold Malak off. Keep up with him, push forward, retreat, and do so without any sense of being outmatched.

I began to dimly feel Malak's thoughts again, like I knew I once had. I couldn't remember the times when he and I worked together, but it felt intensely nostalgic. Even just the echo of him transmitted through the Star Forge, through Bastila, and finally to me.

I found tears in my eyes as we fought, but dismissed them as unimportant. Malak had betrayed me, he had betrayed everything we were meant to be. I would spare no pity for him, no hesitation, no regret.

The thought only increased my anger. Lightning strengthened around me, enough so that Malak seemed to grow almost hesitant. Or was I just moving that much faster than him?

I pressed the attack, closed in, and brought his saber into a deep lock. Both mine, crossed, pushing his up and away as I stepped closer. My lightning flickered out to pulse into him. He tried to back away, tried to pull free of the lock, but I moved with him. Matched him, strength for strength, Force for Force.

It may not be doing a _lot_ of damage, my lightning when not focused intensely tended to be more flash and pain than lasting harm, but I laughed in his face. Wildly, almost manic, relief and the taste of coming triumph.

I pressed closer still as he backed away faster, trying to break free, until we stood against the railing of one sweeping ramp.

"You can't retreat any more," I said, pressing power into my lightning aura.

"And you have always been too trusting," Malak rasped. He too began to laugh, his eyes no longer focused on me, staring away somewhere behind me.

Fire burned through me, a sharp shock that took a moment to fully register. I looked down to see ice-blue, speared through me and into Malak.

I gasped, lightning flickering out, as the pain hit me. My left hand lost any strength, saber falling away. Malak's saber, freed, slid down my other saber toward my hand and I nearly didn't recover in time to direct it away from myself.

I turned my head. Bastila stood behind me, lightsaber in hand, eyes cold and smile fixed. She deactivated the blade, allowing me to fall free, then spun in a blur of movement and Force. She drove its other blade in a jagged arc up Malak's stomach and chest. He didn't move to stop her. Couldn't?

Malak let out a harsh laugh. His own saber fell beside my own, the ringing clatter suddenly loud in the absence of battle.

Bastila's second blade deactivated, leaving the room dark but for the running lights and my own purple blade. She stood over both of us, Malak dying, myself simply lying in stunned agony.

I could see the hole burned through my shoulder, through the tunic and robes. Not fatal, at least with the Force running through me, protecting and insulating me, but I couldn't be sure I'd ever use the arm again.

I felt a tremor go through our bond, a violent tension that seemed to leave splinters and cracks behind it, as I grew to comprehend just what had happened.

 _Bastila betrayed me. BASTILA betrayed me._

After everything I'd done to return to her, she took my loyalty and simply cast it aside. Why was everyone so weak? Why was I the only one who actually trusted anyone? Why did my apprentices and friends keep turning away from me?

"Revan, wait," Bastila said, her soft voice cutting off my anger just as it began to overwhelm my pain. "Let me help."

"Help _yourself_ you mean," I gasped, hissing a bit with the pain.

"You see, Revan?" Malak rasped. "You never understand her. I did. She was not meant to be bound and subjugated. I only ever sought to show her how to break her chains."

"You wanted to exploit me for your own purposes," Bastila said to Malak, her cold gaze at odds with her wildly gleeful smile. "You thought I would serve you for years yet."

"No, I only ever wanted to show you true power. You remember how I reshaped you, how I broke you free of Jedi dogma and lies. You are stronger now, Bastila. Strong enough that I feel no shame in falling to your hand.

Malak turned to face me. "And now she holds both our lives in the balance. I could yet be saved, and you could yet be slain. Who will be the master and who the slave? Who will rise and rule?"

"Not you," Bastila said.

She kicked Malak in the face, spinning around to bring her other heel down full force against his chest. I can feel the Force around her, see the impact buckle Malak's chestplate beside where her saber had already left a jagged slash.

He coughed, even his artificial voice insufficient to mask his fading strength.

"I have seen your future. You will rise to be greater than I, greater than Revan, greater than any Sith lord in history. Whatever name you choose to take, it will echo throughout history. You, Bastila Shan, you are the true prize. You are the reason for this war. You are the reason for Revan's survival."

Malak's voice grew fainter, but he continued to speak. "You're the reason for my strength. Without you to test myself against, without you leading the Republic defenses, this galaxy would've been mine a long time ago. You, Bastila Shan, will forever be known as the most powerful of my apprentices."

Malak's eyes drifted shut and his voice was barely audible. "As I will be forever remembered. . . as the apprentice of Darth Revan. . . you, Bastila Shan, will be forever. . . remembered as. . . mine." With that, Malak fell still. He did not move again.

"Yes, I will be remembered. But not in relation to you." Bastila turned away from Malak.

She stepped toward me and I flinched back, brought my purple blade up between us. "Why, Bastila?"

She knelt beside me, pushing my saber gently away. I deactivated it, allowed her touch. I had no heart to fight her. I just wanted this to be a trick, something played out for Malak's benefit, something not-true.

"This was the only way." Her voice was cold, but her touch gentle. I felt her drawing on the Force, shaping it to heal and soothe and regenerate. I'd never been much good at healing, myself.

"No it wasn't," I said. "I had him locked. You could have taken a half step to either side and hit him without going _through me_ at the same time."

She stood, regal, healing light trailing and fading from her fingertips. My shoulder still ached and the hole remained, but it no longer burned unbearably. My thoughts grew less fuzzy, more clear.

"I will be the master of the Star Forge," Bastila declared. "I am willing to consider an alliance with you, Lord Revan of Korriban or Malachor or Dantooine for all I care. But this station is now mine."

As if in reply, a surge of energy flowed through the station and into her.

I stood, betrayal and anger finally returning to me without the overwhelming distraction of pain.

"Don't do this, Bastila. Come back with me."

"Malak was right about you, Revan. You are weak. You should have died when I faced you on the _Domination_ , but the Jedi wanted you alive. You have lost your power, lost your focus, lost your way. You are done, Revan. The time of Revan and Malak ends here, today, with the ascension of Bastila Shan."

"No. You can't believe that. You're not ready, not strong enough, and certainly not well-trained enough. A Jedi Padawan with a few weeks of Sith training added in? You won't be able to hold the Star Forge for a month! The other Sith will tear you apart."

"The other Sith will be under your control, or dead. I need no one here but myself. The Star Forge is sufficient for me, and I for it. We need no others."

I felt the underlying threat in her words. _Go, and do not try to stop me._

I thought my heart had been broken enough times that I'd be immune to this sort of betrayal. I'd thought I could weather any loss, any friendship failing. But that was with Bastila at my side. She was leaving me. No, worse; she was choosing to cast me aside. Though I had only ever sought to stand with her, now she set herself above me and, with that power in her grasp, suddenly I meant nothing.

"Did you ever really care about me?" I asked quietly, lightning sparking between my fingers. "Or was I only ever a means to an end?"

Bastila laughed, and the harsh dissonance between her seemingly-genuine amusement and the utter disdain pulsing through our bond made me flinch.

"You have always been my benchmark, Revan. Always been what I was compared to. 'Don't read _that_ , Bastila, you wouldn't want to end up like Revan.' 'So fast, Bastila, you're the youngest full padawan since Revan.' They knew I was like you, but hid from that truth in case it led me to follow you. until they needed me, until they needed _you."_

"That doesn't matter," I insisted. "You and I can work together. There's no need for us to separate, no need for us to ever fight."

"You know you've never wanted the Star Forge," Bastila said. "So leave it to me."

I reached out through the Force, but the Star Forge had pulled away from contact. Its twisting, writhing unlife felt as sickening and wrong to me as ever before.

Bastila, on the other hand, dove directly into it. I felt her, through the (weakening) bond as she embraced the darkness and uncertainty, twisting it farther away to her own ends. The station responded, the Star Forge bending itself to a new mistress.

There was nothing I could have done. My shoulder burned, my arm hung limp. Even with Bastila's care, even with furious Force raging through my body, I was in no condition to do anything.

 _I won't let it end like this!_

I could hardly see, pain and sorrow and betrayal blurring my vision. But I knew exactly where Bastila was, exactly where she stepped, how near she was.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't quite bring myself to strike at her. What had she done? Only the same as me, the same as Malak. She let herself be drawn away, let power overtake her. And I'd done nothing to stop it, only realized I was pushing too far once it was too late. Once she was already past the edge and into madness.

I could feel it in her soul, the endless desire for power and control. The basic urge that, left unchecked, becomes your sole motivation.

"Please, Bastila. We can rule together." _Don't leave me. Not now._

"Too late, Revan. You had your chance to treat me as an equal, and you failed. This is my station now. Go. I have no wish to fight you. You may even see the value in us becoming allies, but on my terms. Not yours."

I wanted to refute her words, to say _something_.

But all I could think, all I could feel, was that sense of crushing loss. Of heartbreak beyond imagining. I had believed Onasi's departure hurt. I'd once thought that losing him was the worst that could happen to me. I never even considered the possibility of Bastila leaving me. Being taken from me, yes, but we could overcome that. Betraying me of her own volition? Never.

"Did you always intend to betray me?" My voice wavered. "Or did you just think the opportunity seemed too good to pass up?"

"It was always my intention to be the only lord of the Star Forge. Whether you stood aside and allowed it, because you are weak, or confronted me and forced a contest to the death - that I couldn't know. I guessed that you care more for me than you do for the Star Forge. I've seen the way you flinch away from it, the way you look distrustful any time you're forced to think about it. I've seen how you loathe it, fear it. Even if you want its power, you don't _want_ it."

"I will have it. Sooner or later. It belongs to me."

"Then take it." Bastila stood, saber held non-threateningly to the side, a mocking smile on her lips. "Strike me down, Revan. Push me aside. Cast me away. Destroy me."

I flinched, and didn't move to attack.

"I thought so. You're not Malak. In good ways, and in foolish ways." She shook her head. "Revan. This is something you must accept. I am not you. I will never be you. I am myself, and the Star Forge. . ." she tilted her head back, inhaling slowly, eyes half closed. "The Star Forge sings to me in a way you've never imagined. It belongs to me, like it couldn't belong to you, like it never belonged to Malak."

She stepped closer and lowered her voice.

"So, Revan. Will you let me hold this station? Will you allow our ways to part in peace? Or will this be another battle of apprentice and master for the supremacy of all the galaxy?"

"What do you plan to do with the Star Forge? It's an immensely powerful station, whether I personally like it or not."

"I will build, and learn, and expand. If you wish us to work together, I'm sure I could make use of a master strategist like yourself."

I shook my head. "Bastila, why? Can't you just come with me? Run the station _for_ me, drop these delusions?"

"This is me, Revan." Her voice was sharp, brittle. Her sudden anger flared through the bond. "I have finally discovered my true calling, my purpose, my place. And I won't let you take that away from me!"

"I don't want to take anything away from you, Bastila. I want us to work together. Partners. Not enemies, not just allies, not mere co-workers. Friends. Companions. Surely you feel the same?"

She shook her head. "I won't be held back any more. The Jedi hid things from me. You withheld the secrets of the Dark Side. Everyone wants to tell me what I can and can't learn. I've had enough. I'm going to take what I want, and you can help me or you can get out of my way. I will not be subject to anyone any longer. I am an apprentice no longer."

I was worn, tired, weary. Malak had been difficult to defeat, even with Bastila's help, and I had spent more emotional energy than I thought possible. But now my emotions flared up again. Through the weakness and exhaustion, I finally began to accept that my Bastila was truly gone.

No, not gone. Simply different than I'd believed.

I tried to rationalize it, to find some way that this wasn't the end. She'd saved me, killed Malak, spared my life, healed me, offered my freedom. But what was any of that worth next to what we'd shared?

"Bastila," I whispered. "Please, don't do this." Y _ou belong with me, by my side, forever. I don't care which side, don't care if you want to be in charge. It's not too late._

"Look at the great Lord Revan now," Bastila said, and she turned on me with an actual, ugly sneer. "You plead like a pathetic child."

"I don't care," I said, emotion almost choking my voice. "Bastila, I don't care about any of it. You, me, Juhani. We're not meant to-"

"Through victory my chains are broken," Bastila interrupts. "Victory, Revan. Strength. Not begging and moaning. Do you truly wish to stand by my side? Then prove your worth. Show that you can live without me, that you have some value apart from an ability to collect stronger apprentices."

I gaped at her, the unfairness of the accusation burning. But she wasn't done.

"Malak was right about you, you know. You never commit. You refuse to submit to anyone or anything. You dance the edges of every choice, trying to find a third way out. Well, this time your choices are narrowed down for you. Go, or die."

"You wouldn't really. . ." I began, but Bastila's expression makes the protest die in my throat. I swallowed, dry-mouthed, trying to rid myself of the lump of emotion in my throat.

"I am done explaining myself," Bastila said. "Your time is up. Go."

* * *

 _Author's Note :_

 _Some sections of this chapter were written with voice-to-text. I believe I've caught any typos or homophones, but if you find any I missed please let me know and I'll correct them. I'm too tired now to give it another proofread.  
_


	65. Star Forge: Part 5

I'd been betrayed too often, the feeling was beginning to seem familiar. And only more unbearable.

 _Go, or die._

"No."

Bastila frowned, sensing my shift in emotional state. "What do you mean, Revan?"

"You are not worthy to cast off your apprenticeship. You only escaped Malak because _I_ came back for you. You only survived Taris because _I_ rescued you. You only escaped the Jedi with _my_ guidance. You have done everything _with me_ , and now you seek to cast me aside? Malak's Sith teachings have made you foolish."

She leveled her lightsaber hilt at me. "You think to keep me against my will? You wish to make me prove which of us is the stronger? You forget, it was I who sheltered you from Malak. I who created the opportunity for you to reach us. I who chose to go with him in the first place. Not you. You would have been trapped on Lehon, unable to reach the Star Forge without a much greater force at your command. Three ships would never have sufficed. No, Revan. I am a child no longer, a padawan no more."

"I came for you, to save you! I fought halfway across the galaxy to get back to you. I loved you, Bastila! How can you stand there as though I mean no more to you than Malak?!"

For a moment, her expression wavered. For a moment, I thought I felt softness, regret, something more beneath the sharpness.

Then it was gone.

"You have always put too much into your relationships, Revan," she said quietly. "Always given more than could ever be returned. Always demanded what was never offered. There is no difference to you, is there, between friendship and devotion? No line between close and inseparable? You cling too tightly, Revan. Let me go. I am not yours to own."

 _But you are mine_, part of me screamed. _Mine, mine, mine_. I was willing to sacrifice anything for her, and she. . .

she was willing to sacrifice me.

"I can't let you go. I care too much. If you won't let me love," I stopped. It would be easy, so easy, to slide into hatred. To allow it all in. Her betrayal, her manipulation, her childish selfish insistence on having her own way. She didn't care, maybe had never cared, only used me to get what she wanted. Used Malak when I wouldn't go as far as she wanted.

Betrayal. Always betrayal. It may be true that I trusted too much.

"I'm taking Juhani with me," I said.

"If she wishes to go with you, _I_ won't try to control her destiny."

"This isn't over."

Bastila smiled. "Yes, Revan. It is."

She ignited her lightsaber, eyes suddenly blazing with golden fire, and sprang at me. The Force warned me just in time. I dropped under the swing, bringing my own saber up to deflect, and in that moment something shifted.

The shining thread that had connected me to Bastila snapped. As though her saber blow had severed it, breaking it as cleanly as though it had never been. I couldn't sense her, feel her presence, touch her mind. The simple surface knowing, the Force telling me she was physically beside me, felt so shallow. So lifeless. So meaningless.

She withdrew, spinning her ice-blue saber as she deactivated it. I stood stunned, my own saber casting a purple light across the hall.

"I am more than you ever guessed, Revan. I am stronger than you, stronger than Malak, stronger than any Jedi or Sith in all history. You saw what I can do already, and there are years upon years yet for me to strengthen my ability. The Star Forge amplifies it, did you know? With this station, my Battle Meditation can reach whole worlds. Or it can focus my ability into something no one has ever seen before."

"I won't let you do this," I said, my voice strangled. "You've gone too far."

"You can't stop me. It's done. _We_ are done. Leave now, or I will prove myself the greater. You thought Malak was strong, well, he could only draw on a fraction of the Star Forge's true power. I have surpassed him even more than I surpassed you."

Everyone leaves me. Or. . . was it possible that I drove them away? That I expected too much from those unwilling to live up to my standards?

Anger flared, at Bastila, at myself, at Onasi, at the Jedi and the Sith and the whole stupid selfish galaxy. I'd tried, tried so hard to hold everything together. People, worlds, systems, economies. I could see how they should connect, but everyone else fought so hard to stay where they were, what they were.

Bastila had chosen to change, but not the way I would have wanted. Did that make me no different from the rest of the fools? I wanted her to stay the same?

Yet I couldn't just let her go. I couldn't stand by.

What could I do? If I fought her, one of us would probably die. I didn't want to kill her. Didn't want to destroy that flame burning within her. So what if she wanted to go her own way? Wasn't that her right?

I still wanted her, still felt she belonged to me. We'd gone through so much together, how dare she turn her back on me? We could be so much more.

Was I going to stand by and allow myself to be betrayed again? Abandoned again, by one I had trusted as a friend?

Rage buried kinship, anger subsumed restraint. I was tired and worn, but the Force had no such limitations. I plunged myself into its embrace, deeper and farther than I'd ever dared since awakening over Taris all those weeks ago.

Lightning formed a solid dome around me, flickering and humming through me, and I found my lightsabers active in my hands without thought or plan. Though my left hand still didn't move at my body's command, the Force could guide it just as well as my mind. I crossed my blades, ignoring the reignition of pain through my shoulder at the motion.

Bastila laughed, Force rising around her to match my own power. "So it always is, Revan. Master, or student. Young or old. Only one can truly rise, the other must surely fall."

I didn't care any longer. Nothing mattered but victory. Even avenging myself upon my betrayer came second.

I would not lose. Not to Malak, and not to Bastila. Emotions writhed and twisted, love fueling hatred, betrayal fueling anger, every dark power and thought I'd ever tried to suppress rising to my call.

I was Revan.

I was master of this galaxy. And I would not back down. Never again.

The world burned gold. Bastila's saber clashed against my own, blocking my first furious charge. Fire raged through me, Force rippled from me at a thought. Bastila tried to match me, but she was young. Untrained.

She'd had to search and struggle to find the Dark Side's power. For me, it was a constant fight to hold back from it. And that fight was no longer worth the effort. I threw away caution, cast aside restraint, and let pure dark power consume me.

I knew, in the quiet back of my soul, that this decision was irreversible. That I'd been given one chance at redemption, and one chance only. But the alternative was unthinkable. I'd tried too hard to find a middle route. Tried too long to balance weakness with strength. But between strength and weakness lay only mediocrity.

Choose a path. Commit, or fall.

 _Apathy is death._

I fought with a fury that Malak could never have matched. Bastila pushed, strained against my onslaught, but she was forced back onto the defencive. She couldn't gain ground, my assault unrelenting.

Force pushed her back, dragged her forward. She blocked and spun and parried, absorbed lightning strikes and ducked away from saber blows, but she gained no ground. Her speed and strength were flagging, mine only increased.

It had been too long since I truly embraced my full strength. How had I ever thought the Jedi were right? How had I let them deviate me from my course? I let them bind me with affections and foolish attachments, even as they let me think myself defiant for caring.

Lightning snapped out against Bastila's saber in sharp staccato bursts, thunder crashing and snapping around us at its speed and strength.

I was fury. I was power.

I was Revan.

I could see the strain in Bastila's eyes as she struggled to hold onto the dark power she'd tried so long to seize, but it was beyond her capabilities. Directing vast amounts of energy in subtle webs that touched hundreds or thousands of minds, weaving them together into a tapestry of her will, that was one thing. Facing my full wrath in a one-to-one duel was another entirely.

My blade seared along her arm, slashed lightly against a leg before she could dance back. My lightning scorched and blackened her robes, leaving streaks of ash over reddening skin.

She faltered. I saw the moment her confidence broke, the moment fear overtook her and she realized she was outmatched.

"I yield!" she screamed, backing away. "I was wrong. You are stronger than I knew."

I slowed my advance, watching her coldly, and she dropped to her knees.

"Please, my Lord. Teach me. I see now that I could only dare challenge you because of my ignorance, my weakness. It won't happen again."

I smiled, exhaled slowly. "I accept your surrender, my Bastila."

Triumph raged through me. I crossed to her side, circled her trembling kneeling form. Tucking aside my sabers, I ran a hand possessively over her shoulder, tilted her chin to face me.

"Yes. You will serve me well. You have an affinity for this station, I believe? I give it to you. As my second-sister, you are subject only to me. Rise."

She did so, her expression downcast.

"You needn't fear, my Bastila. You were only doing what you thought you must. Now, you know better than to challenge me."

"I will serve as you command," she said, and she meant it. Her defiance had shattered beneath the weight of my true strength.

"And I know that you, as powerful as you are, can restore what you have destroyed. Can you not? Restore the connection between us, and never break it again."

Her hand twitched, forming a fist, then relaxed. "Yes, my Lord," she whispered.

I smiled.

So weak, so young. So easily broken. Malak had made a good start, but he'd wanted too much of her independence intact. He would have come to rely on her capabilities, rather than directing them himself.

I needed no such help. I could direct my affairs and those of my followers without need of council or aid.

It would have been nice if I could have left her spirit intact, but that no longer seemed as important as it once had. All that mattered was that she - and her powerful Force ability - belonged to me.

Memories I'd thought lost forever began to fade back into my thoughts. Memories so closely tied with my power that the Jedi Council had locked them away. But not erased them.

The galaxy, the Star Forge, the Rakatan worlds. The Republic, the True Sith, the Lost.

I turned to Bastila, her power rippling between us as she knelt before me, and I allowed the connection to snap back into place. It wasn't as deep as before, not as strong, not as clear. But it was enough. We could communicate, which was all I needed.

The connection was strong enough that I could feel the shattered remnants of her pride, glistening sharp-edged arrogance, lying discarded beneath a new foundation of devotion and need. She'd seen my power, wanted that for herself, and knew now that it would take years of study under my command before she could challenge me again.

I was stronger, the master, and she would serve me or die. She understood my strength now, and knew better than to test me. Her brief, childish dreams of personal conquest were already fading.

She never wanted to rule anyway, merely got carried away with the allure of dark powers she didn't understand. Not like I did. Light side, dark side, it was all a means to and end. And right now, for the first time since my own mind was broken and reshaped, I knew for certain that my necessity lay here. In gold fire and dark power, in dominance and conviction.

For all his faults, Malak hadn't been wrong. Sometimes, care and subtlety go completely unrewarded. And friendship is only as strong as both parties' commitment to it, no matter how much one may wish otherwise.

I was done trusting people who did not return my devotion. I was done caring for those who would only betray me. As I had turned away from my friendship with Malak once he was no longer as useful, so I would be again.

I had forgotten the true necessities of power and conquest for too long. Sentiment and Jedi foolishness held too much power over me these past months. No longer.

"Sister Bastila," I said, motioning for her to stand. She did so. "Order all patrols back to the Star Forge. Anyone still loyal to Malak is to be killed. Those willing to serve me may continue to do so."

"Yes, Lord Revan."

She bowed and departed. Once she was gone, I allowed myself to relax from my firm stance. I clipped my sabers back in their places, then pressed a hand to my wounded shoulder. It would heal, given time and Force healing, but not perfectly.

I shook my head. If I hadn't been so blind, so foolishly desperate to trust, it wouldn't have happened.

I closed my eyes and centered my mind on the pain pulsing from the injury. It would provide a constant reminder of the foolishness of putting too much faith in one's subordinates.

I would not make such a mistake again.


	66. Beginnings

Less than half of Malak's forces were willing to defy me. Most in the first days, before word of my decisive victory spread.

None of the lower ranks knew how much I'd relied on Bastila during that fight, of course, nor that I had been injured on her blade rather than Malak's.

Though the Star Forge continued to be an uncomfortable headquarters - the way its walls redirected Force and absorbed the energy of life into its metal shell was something I'd never get used to - I had no choice but to remain long enough to set affairs in order. After that, I would be returning to Korriban with my followers.

 _Fire Dust_ and _Korriban Heart_ arrived shortly after I recalled Malak's set scouts. The _Ebon Hawk_ wouldn't be repaired easily, but I had no further need of it. The Star Forge could fabricate anything from a single-person fighter to a galaxy-class dreadnought. I was already tinkering with plans for the _Domination II_.

For now, I stood at an observation deck overlooking the droid assemblies, turning my Genoharadan datapad over and over in my hands. They worked in the shadows, and Revan would hardly be an inconspicuous agent. My time working _for_ them would surely end once I revealed my return to the galaxy.

That didn't mean my time working _with_ them had to end. A galaxy-spanning guild of elite assassins could prove a valuable asset in the coming conquest.

This time, I would do things differently. This time, I had Bastila. I had the Star Forge. I didn't have clear memories of the first war, more factual memory if its having happened. Nothing detailed enough to help with the coming conflict.

I would need to spend years rebuilding my network from almost nothing, rooting out every trace of loyalty to Malak, placing agents to gather information. I would need to recreate my intimate knowledge of the galaxy, of each planet and its place in the whole. Of where to push, which worlds can bend, which must be broken.

When Malak betrayed me to the Jedi, when I was destroyed and remade, I lost more than could be easily replaced.

But Lord Revan does not flinch in the face of difficulty. However long it took, whatever effort was necessary, I was going to reclaim my rightful place.

I turned away from the overlook and strode down corridors I was coming to know by heart. My dark robes flared behind me in what I knew to be a satisfactorily dramatic way. No mask this time, though I wore the silence-augment headband I'd taken from a rogue Jedi on Nar Shaddaa concealed beneath my hood.

There was no longer a reason for Lord Revan's face to be hidden. There was no harm in walking openly. My reputation was already there, it needed only a few years' work to repair it stronger than ever. This time, it is my actions that would be concealed.

I reached the section of chambers where my fledgling Academy were housed and silently entered.

Bastila stood at the head of the room, demonstrating in slow motion the construction of an absorptive shield of Force to protect one from incoming Force attacks. Mekel and Dustil tried to imitate her, but their aggression kept turning the shield into a projected force that puffed briefly out from them in all directions before fading.

Mission sat beside Sasha, who had taken to rearranging her magnetic blocks with her growing Force abilities rather than her hands. They were talking quietly as Sasha played out whatever game or story they'd invented for the day, and I noticed that Mission had slipped - probably unconsciously - into a mutant dialect between Basic and Sasha's Mandalorian-ish garble.

Lyuran stood with one of the Sith instructors, surrounded by a thin but stable absorptive shield of her own, and seemed to be hotly debating the merits of a Force shield versus a physical disruption of an attack.

"If you're fast enough and strong enough, there's no need to waste energy on a _shield_ ," the intsructor was insisting.

"Being able to passively absorb Force attacks, though, you free yourself to counter-attack rather than focus on active defence," Lyuran countered.

I smiled briefly and moved past them, toward where Juhani sat alone a bit apart from the others. Though she tried to present a calm and even face to everyone, I could feel the jagged lines of her broken self trying to tear her apart. Bastila was resilient, flexible. Juhani was strong, but brittle.

It had been many years since I'd last turned a Jedi to my side, actively and consciously. I knew about my years spent at Malachor creating and refining my techniques, but the memories remained as vague and unhelpful as everything else that had happened prior to awakening on the _Endar Spire_.

It would be a delicate procedure, since I had few enough Force-sensitives to work with. Malak's foolishness and the Jedi Council's carelessness had severely depleted the galaxy's supply. I could ill afford to waste someone with as much potential as Juhani.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Meditating," she replied, not opening her eyes.

"Upon what are you meditating?"

"Power, control. Vengeance. Patience. Distance."

I felt the faintest outline of her thoughts as she said this, flickering through images of Taris, of Malak's fleet, of Malak himself lying crumpled amid his dreams of conquest.

Of Bastila. Of myself.

The context was hazy, unclear. I could tell things she thought about, but not the emotional context that surrounded them. Just images, impressions.

"Do you seek power, Juhani? Do you yearn for control?"

"Yes. I always have." And I felt it within her, the fiery core that wanted to _make_ things change, to force them away from their natural course, bending them to her own designs.

That much of her remained unchanged.

"And you speak of vengeance," I prompted.

"I thought I would feel something when Malak was destroyed. But what he took remains gone."

That, I could not sense. Juhani's thoughts danced around some break, some absence which had been core to Malak's conversion of her. Something in the way she was cracked had allowed her to fixate on myself rather than Malak, to slip away from his control by taking the same devotion he'd demanded of her and redirecting it toward me.

I had no idea if it would hold, or if in the long term it would crumble. Part of my task with Juhani would be to cement that loyalty, to ensure that even if Malak's initial reasons failed, she would remain mine.

It would take time, and care, but I was determined. I would not lose anyone more. No matter what it took, they were mine and such they would remain.

I silently reviewed them, mentally categorizing them for the future. Bastila, and much of the Korriban contingent, were followers for my power. Juhani was a special case, let's call it uncertainty.

Mission was here because of Sasha; I knew that were it not for the girl taking much of her time and all her attention, Mission would probably have decried my new stance the moment she arrived on the Star Forge and understood my choices.

The remainder of the Korriban recruits, Dustil chief among them, had joined me with the explicit stated goal of taking down Malak. Now he was dead, I wasn't certain if they'd choose to remain with me or part ways now their primary goal had been achieved.

I suspected most would choose to join me. After all, they were Sith. They wanted power, and I had survived and surpassed everything Jedi or Sith alike could throw at me. Those who would rather leave weren't strong enough or trained enough to be worth my time convincing to stay. Except perhaps Dustil himself.

He had a surprisingly strong gift for one born to a new line, but that was how the Force worked. Sometimes it ran in families, other times it appeared without warning seemingly from nowhere. Like Sasha, he would require extra attention.

I found myself staring at Bastila, following the little motions she made as she taught. She was good. A bit harsh, a bit overeager, a bit aggressive. But she understood exactly how to get through to people by instinct. I supposed years of learning to subtly influence others would be wasted if you didn't know _how_ to direct said influence.

Beside me, Juhani had returned to her silent meditation. I left her to it. She was a puzzle to solve another day. For now, I could let her rest.

* * *

"You're leaving me here," Bastila said, her tone tinted with surprise.

"I told you that days ago," I reminded her.

"I didn't believe you. After what I did. . ."

I flexed my left arm. It hurt terribly and hardly moved at my command. I was getting marginally better at moving it with the Force, but when left to muscle and physical impulse it remained largely useless. For someone like Malak, who relied on their blade, it might have been a serious problem. For me, a little more reliance on Force and a little less on lightsabers meant little enough.

"It's only natural for an apprentice to seek advancement by any means. You manipulated your way into Malak's command structure, only to sabotage him and turn to me. Once you saw a chance to destroy Malak, you didn't hesitate."

Once, I would have held it against her. Once, I might have thought this betrayal something worth worrying at. But things were clearer to me now, and betrayal could prove itself nothing more than good sense.

If you have the power to take a higher position, then why leave it to those less capable?

Wasn't that basically what I planned to do, but on a galaxy-wide scale? The current masters were weak, so I would take their power for myself and tear them down behind me.

"It won't happen again," Bastila said. "I know better now. It would be foolish to oppose you."

"True," I said. "Very foolish indeed."

Which wasn't to say I believed her. Apprentices did foolish things all the time. But for now, at least, she would follow. And I would make full use of her while she did.

* * *

I departed the Star Forge two weeks after we arrived. Bastila and the few Sith remaining who'd chosen to serve me rather than remain faithful to Malak would manage its day-to-day operations. For now, we were simply continuing production of ships and droids in preparation for whatever came next.

 _Domination II_ led our little cavalcade. My new personal ship's fabrication was the primary reason I'd delayed our departure for so long. Unlike the interdictor-class ships such as _Leviathan_ , I'd created _Domination II_ \- like the first _Domination,_ whose designs I'd found saved in the Star Forge's memory - without any Rakatan Force technology in its design. I didn't like being surrounded by that constant nonliving presence, and apparently disliked it as much in the past.

Smaller and sleeker than its predecessor, _Domination II_ was built for speed and stability rather than intimidation and firepower. For that, I'd have captains and underlings on more interdictors and dreadnoughts than the Republic could hope to match.

It was also built to make a personal statement, though one few would recognize. Its shields had more than double the usual generators, a tactic which necessitated considerably more expensive fuel to maintain, but meant that I and I alone in my fleets would have the ability to ignore blasts from even my most powerful ships.

Never again would a betrayal from within my ranks so much as disrupt my day. _Domination II_ could weather anything. Much like its master.

The crew was minimal, Star Forge droids filling the few roles simple enough for them to handle. Canderous, along a dozen pilots and mechanics and whoever else was available the day I left, kept it running smoothly, though barely. If anything went wrong, we could be in trouble. But it was a brand new ship, and the Star Forge did not construct things faultily. So long as the design was valid, the construction would be exactly correct.

We arrived in Korriban space without encountering any difficulties, though I knew that wouldn't last. Though news had spread through the Star Forge itself of my defeat of Malak, there would be vast swaths of his forces who didn't even know their master was dethroned. And as I intended to begin relatively subtly, I wouldn't be announcing my return on the holonet anytime soon. The Sith resistance to my rule may prove a problem.

But that was a problem for another day. Korriban was mine, and the Star Forge was mine. Everything else came secondary. Between those two strongholds, the fleets currently spread throughout the galaxy were a minimal irritant.

I boarded my shuttle and followed _Korriban Heart_ and _Fire Dust_ down to the surface. Yuthura Ban stood in the hall, her unease obvious, but melting into relief as she recognized myself and my team.

"Lord Revan. I did not recognize your new ship. When it appeared on our scanners, I feared the worst."

"Malak is dead. The Star Forge is mine, and so I return to my true home."

I need only reach out, and the passionate vibrancy of Korriban's energy embraced me. The Force flowed strongly here, warm and comforting, encouraging and eager. There was a reason that generations upon generations of Sith found their way here. The environment was exactly perfect for practice, for training, for embracing true power.

"So you plan to stay here?" Yuthura asked. "We did not have rooms prepared, your arrival was unexpected."

"I will find a place to my liking," I said, waving away her concern. "It is not your responsibility to wait on me. This isn't Coruscant."

She bowed. "I'm sorry, Lord Revan. I still am unsure of how exactly this is going to work."

"You are responsible for administration and management of the Academy, no more and no less. Simply keep it running well, and I demand nothing more of you."

She nodded. "Yes, that is what I have been doing. I was unsure if you had additional duties in mind for me."

"Not at present. Oh, I have a new student who will be joining us. Sasha is very young, but has an extremely powerful gift with the Force. She has been progressing with extraordinary speed under the teaching of Mekel, Dustil, and Lyuran. See to it that her instruction continues."

"Yes, Lord Revan. It will be as you command."

We entered the Academy in a weaving line; myself, Juhani, and Canderous at the lead, my ultimately-useless strike team following. Mission, Z, and Sasha came at the end, with Lyuran and Dustil staying close to them. Once we were inside, the group split up. Most had their own quarters to return to, friends to reuinte with, or training to resume.

"I don't know, Revan," Mission said once the room had thinned out to only a handful of us. "I'm really not comfortable with all this." She gestured around at the heavy stone halls that surrounded us.

"You will be safer here than anywhere," I assured her. "No one here would dare to assault anyone in my personal retinue."

"That's just it, Revan. I don't want to be a part of this all. The Sith are evil. I understand that you thought you needed help to stop Malak, but he's gone now. It's over. We don't have to stay here, we don't have to stay with _them_."

"I didn't realize you thought so litle of me," Lyuran said mildly.

Mission's lekku twitched in embarrassment. "You seem alright," she admitted, "but this place. . . it just gives me the creeps. I don't like it, and I don't want to stay here."

"You are welcome to leave if you wish," I told her. I smiled. "Sasha must remain, however."

Mission sighed. "You can't stop controlling everything for even a minute, can you?"

"You know as well as I, those with great strength in the Force must be trained. And Sasha's strength is as great as that of most students here. She would not be turned away if she sought entry to any group of Force-wielders."

"But it doesn't have to be the _Sith_ ," Mission pressed. "We could go to the Jedi."

I hissed. "Never. I would rather die than allow them to control me again. Do you know how long it took for me to escape from the lingering presence of their influence over me? Do you know what their interference cost me?"

My left arm tingled with phantom sensation as I thought of how much easier it would have been to destroy Malak if I'd been able to fight free of my reluctance to touch the Dark Side sooner. Bastila would never have had the chance nor motive to betray me.

"It doesn't matter now. That's the past. The people who did that are dead now, right? Malak destroyed the Dantooine enclave completely. There are other Jedi. Better ones."

I shook my head. "No, Mission. I don't care if they're better. I won't go back. I'm done with the Jedi. This is where I choose to stay. You can stay with me, or leave. It makes no difference to me."

She looked on the verge of either crying or shouting, but did neither. "I see," was all she said, very quietly, and she turned and followed Lyuran and Sasha down a side corridor. Whether to say farewells or arrange for her own sleeping quarters, it didn't matter. I pushed any thought of her aside.

I took a deep breath, inhaling the heavy earth scent of Korriban, of sun and dust and countless years, of dark and fire and power and desire. Canderous stood beside me, a solid presence, unwavering, unshakeable. Juhani on my other side and a little behind, broken and rough-edged, but glowing with potential.

And across the galaxy, connected by a thin golden thread of power, Bastila stood upon the Star Forge, overseeing production of our next fleet and learning the deepest secrets of Rakatan engineering.

This time would be different. There would be no Malak to betray me, no Bastila helping the Jedi resist me. The galaxy was weary of fighting, first the Mandalorians, then myself, then Malak. It would be the work of but a few more years to crack any remaining resistance and take what I wanted. What I needed.

 _Why? Why is it so important to own the galaxy? Does anyone really need_ _that_ _much power?_

I drove the nagging thought away, focused on the weight and pulsing energy that was Korriban until my mind was clear.

Soon, I would need to leave again. In _Domination II_ or in quieter, subtler ships, I would travel across the galaxy, collecting information about the Republic, about the remainder of Malak's Sith, and begin crafting my strategies for the next years. Soon, I would begin delegating, recruiting, spinning a new network of contacts and subordinates.

But for now, I could just stand and bask in my hard-won victory. For now, I could let Korriban welcome me home.

* * *

 _Author's Notes :_

 _Two years ago, with the posting of the first chapter of Fall With Me, I became a fanfiction writer. Today, I become a fanfiction finisher. And I intend to continue writing and finishing stories for many years to come._

 _Right now, I'm going to take a break from this story, though it has always been intended as book one in a trilogy. I have several other projects I've been neglecting during the rush to finish this on time, as it was important to me that it finished on its anniversary. There will be a short epilogue to Fall With Me, which I will post immediately after the first chapter of the sequel (Lost With Me) is up as a sort of notification - and to tie the two stories together. _

_Lost With Me will cover the time period covered by K2tSL, but due to the vast changes to canon taking place during this story it will not follow quite as much of the canon storyline - though I hope to include many of the K2tSL characters, worlds, and circumstances wherever it is reasonable to do so. The third book ( Rise With Me) will be almost completely original, as I am ignoring much of SWtOR in favour of my own interpretation of the future. _

_If you're interested in my other interpretations of KotOR, I have two other AUs I'm working on - Double Blind and Revans Reborn. Revans Reborn is a lighter story while Double Blind is more serious. I also write (poorly) in the Harry Potter universe, if that interests you. Otherwise, see you in a few years, and thank you all for the support._

 _Thank you for reading Fall With Me, it makes me so happy that you've found my story worth your time. Thank you to those who've followed/faved, it's a great encouragement to me seeing those numbers grow. And thank you to every reviewer for taking the time to let me know your thoughts. I'm very bad at replying, but I always read everything you write and it has been an incredible help in making it through two solid years of writing. _

_This is the first time in my life that I've been able to stick with a story this long, and now I've actually completed it. I firmly believe that this would not have been possible without the fanfiction community's welcome and support. It was thinking of you, whether those reading and reviewing all along or those who would one day stumble on this fic in the future, that never failed to spur me on to continuing, even though there were times when I loathed this story with all my heart. (I'm still somewhat astonished anyone made it past the earlier chapters, to be honest.)_

 _Despite the risk of repeating myself egregiously, again, thank you._

 _~Asviloka, 2018_


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